Adaptive Instinct (Survival Instinct)

by Stittle, Kristal

  ***

  At noon, the service was held. Everyone from the motel who wasn’t on guard duty, gathered around the pool. A woman had found a bunch of fake flowers that the motel must have used as decoration. Each of those who knew the people who had died the night before got one. They said something nice, and then placed the flower in the pool. The younger Dr. Richards was one of them.

  Those who had lost loved ones before reaching the motel were also given the opportunity to speak. It was a long service, but nobody complained or left early. Even the maternity mothers made it out with their babes, as did others who Lauren had never seen before because they never left their rooms. There were a few harsh speeches and a few downers, but overall, it was very sweet. The sun even found a hole in the cloud cover for a brief moment in the distance, although not everyone noticed it.

  At the end of the service, Lauren gathered all her orphaned wards as well as a few of the other kids who wanted to join. They sang Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, because it was the only song that all of them knew. Even then, a few got it wrong, and it was terribly off key most of the time, but the thought was there, and people’s faces indicated that they appreciated it.

  Afterward, when everybody was dispersing to go back to doing whatever it was they did to pass the time, Private Winchester appeared out of the crowd to speak to Lauren. They found a spot along the fence that incorporated a tree and stood beneath its branches.

  “Leelo’s got quite the singing voice,” Winchester commented, “although a little on the loud side.”

  “I asked her to sing loudly to help cover up those who sounded like frogs,” Lauren smiled.

  “Ah,” Winchester nodded. “It didn’t work.”

  “No, it just got them to sing louder as well,” she laughed.

  “We’ve gotten word from on high.”

  “Have we now?”

  “Something’s come up; I’m not sure what. Lieutenant Boyle isn’t saying.” Lieutenant Boyle was their unofficial leader. He had been the one Lauren saw in charge of the hospital evacuation. She was glad nothing had happened to him, or else they probably would have fallen apart. “My guess is he doesn’t want to start a panic, so he’s keeping information to himself.”

  “Understandable.” Being in charge of a group of children was one thing, but being in charge of everyone in the Pummel Motel? Lauren couldn’t imagine the pressure he must be under every day.

  “The word is, we’re probably leaving soon. Heading out to Pearson Airport.”

  Like most people, Lauren had been kept up-to-date on the plans. She always knew the motel wasn’t a permanent solution. “So soon? I thought the prison was having transportation problems.”

  “They are, but they may have found a fix. They’re working on it and hope to be out in a few more days.”

  “You think Boyle wants to leave early because of what happened last night?”

  “I think that’s playing a part, but you can tell when you look at him that something even heavier is weighing upon him. Most people will probably assume it’s because of the attack, and I think that’s fine. It’s a terrible thing that’s happened, but at least it’s shaken them up. Some of our residents have gotten a little too comfortable here.”

  Lauren agreed with him. Seeing those people at the service who never came out of their rooms only reminded her of that fact. The longer they stayed, the harder it would be to leave.

  “Do you think you could get the kids ready? We’ll be leaving tonight at the earliest, or tomorrow night at the latest.”

  “That is really soon.” Lauren thought over all the things she would have to do to get the kids ready. “I need to pack up what clothes and toys we’ve gathered, which means finding bags.”

  “We can provide those.”

  “And I should probably run them through the procedures again, just to make sure they understand everything.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll have time. We won’t leave until everyone’s ready. Besides, we have to do another round of blood tests before packing everyone into even tighter spaces, and we want to give those out in the truck a bit more time to make it back.”

  “All right. I’ll prepare the kids. Just tell me when you need us for the blood draws.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Winchester tipped his head as if he wore an invisible hat and walked off to perform his other duties.

  Lauren headed back toward the motel, making a mental list of everything she needed to go over with the kids.

  “So you and Private Winchester, huh?” Jon sidled up next to her with a suggestive remark.

  “I’m gay, thank you very much. And he knows that.” Lauren grinned at him cheekily.

  “I figured.” Jon shrugged.

  “And how did you figure?”

  “The way you talked about your friend, Abby, made her sound like more than a friend. Besides, my foster home was run by a pair of lesbians.”

  “You never told me that.”

  “Yup, Beth and Holly. They were all right people. I’m not surprised that I went from a pair of lesbian women looking out for me to another lesbian woman looking out for me.”

  Lauren found it amusing that he used the words ‘looking out for’ instead of ‘taking care of.’ “You just really like to say the word lesbian don’t you?”

  “Yup.” Jon smiled roguishly at her. “So what were you and the private talking about anyway?”

  Lauren filled him in on everything. She would need his help organizing the group and would probably have to corral some of the older kids into helping as well. Jason would probably volunteer but she couldn’t be too sure about the other teenagers.

  “Those that had blood draws yesterday aren’t going to be too happy.”

  “I’m going to blame it on you. You’re the one that made them run out and grab a zombie.”

  Jon hunched his shoulders defensively.

  “Thank you for that, by the way. I never got the chance to say that last night. It was incredibly stupid what you did—you put a lot of kids in danger—but you did save my life.” She threw an arm across his shoulders and kissed his head just above his ear. He was only a little bit shorter than she was.

  Jon’s face turned a shade of red. “I thought you said you were into women?” he joked to hide his embarrassment.

  Lauren thought about making a quip, saying he looked womanly, but decided to leave it. She didn’t want to risk offending him. He was still a teenager after all, and teenagers had a tendency to take everything you said about them to heart.

  ***

  Once more, Lauren counted all the heads she could see. She had been doing it neurotically ever since Private Winchester had said they’d be leaving soon. The sun had set but would shortly be rising again. Everyone had had their blood drawn and were deemed fit to travel. The truck of volunteers hadn’t returned, but nobody could wait any longer. It had been decided that they weren’t coming back. Many of the kids were still asleep, but an unusual number were awake for this early in the morning. They knew it was moving day and had a nervous energy. It was exciting, like Christmas, but with terror mixed in. They had a long journey ahead.

  Around the room, everybody was in pairs. Lauren had decided to use the buddy system. Her buddy was Peter, who slept in her arms. Claire was buddied with Jon, and Leelo with Jason. In the corner, Dakota had paired up with Mary. The woman needed a buddy, and Dakota was the only one who didn’t harbour a deep fear of, or even felt uneasy with the woman. Many of the older kids had paired up with the younger ones at Lauren’s behest. It would be just her luck to have two of the young ones paired up and then have both of them go missing during the move.

  She counted the heads again, although half the group was in the other room where she couldn’t see them. Lauren was sorely tempted to get up and go count them as well.

  Private Winchester knocked on the door. Lauren rose to her feet, trying not to jostle Peter, and opened it.

  “Time to go.” Behind him, the sun hadn’t yet risen and w
as just casting the faintest of light in the sky. It looked like the overcast of yesterday had broken up though; separating into several large, fluffy, white clouds. Maybe many of the kids would be able to fall back asleep once they were moving. There wasn’t much else to keep them entertained on the ride.

  “All right, everyone,” Lauren called into the room, “up and at ’em. Time to move. Let’s go.”

  The children all rose sleepily. They had been told what to do in such a situation many, many times, but still Lauren had to remind several of them. The bigger kids grabbed bags that had been packed the night before, and then they grabbed their partners’ hands. Jon and Claire were the first to leave the room, forming the head of the line they would all create.

  Lauren stepped out and looked over the parking lot. Part of the fence had been dismantled again as they needed to move most of the vehicles. The one they would be riding in again was the long school bus. A man Lauren had seen around only a few times before, already sat behind the wheel. Also ready to go were three Hummers, two ambulances, a short school bus, a public transit bus, a mini-van, two police cruisers, a flower delivery truck, and the RV in which a bunch of the kids had been found. Lauren knew the ambulances were for those who were sick and shouldn’t be around others. The RV was going to be used for the rest of the injured patients, and the short bus was for the new mothers. Jon’s bike was going to lead the convoy, driven by Lieutenant Boyle himself. He would be followed by one Hummer, while the other two stayed at the rear. Lauren found herself wondering in what vehicle Private Winchester would be. She didn’t have a thing for him like Jon had suggested the day before, but she did consider him a valuable friend.

  The siren began to go off.

  “Lauren!” Claire wailed from nearby.

  “It’s okay!” Lauren quickly turned to the kids. “You knew this was going to happen! They’re far away to draw the zombies away from us. We discussed this remember? Everything will be all right, just stay with your buddy and keep in line!”

  The kids shuffled and murmured and some cried, but they formed the line. Lauren walked down it, counting everyone. She checked the room and made sure nothing the kids might want on the bus was left behind. There were pillows, sheets, blankets, cots, sleeping bags, and foam mats littered all over. The soldiers would be going through it quickly and grabbing whatever they could fit into the vehicles, but it was low priority after food and ammunition. Lauren counted the kids again.

  “Remember, move quickly, but hold tight to your buddy’s hand and stay in line,” Lauren said loudly enough to be heard over the distant siren. She heard a child tell his buddy that she was holding too tightly and that his hand was being crushed. “Okay, go!”

  Jon and Claire led the way, hurrying for the stairs. The line of children rushed past Lauren—being counted again—as they followed them. At the bottom of the stairs, Private Winchester was making sure none of them veered toward the back of the motel, and in the parking lot several volunteers were overseeing the whole operation. When the last kid passed, Lauren brought up the rear.

  “We’re clear,” she told Winchester as she went by. He gave her a curt nod and ran up the stairs, two at a time, to do a quick assessment of the supplies left behind.

  As Lauren stepped into the parking lot, the front of the line had already reached the bus. Jon and Claire stood to one side, counting again. Lauren had surely instilled her neuroses in Jon.

  “That everyone?” she asked as she reached the pair.

  “Yup,” Jon nodded and led Claire into the bus.

  When Lauren got up the steps, she first noticed the man driving their bus was in a dirty paramedic’s uniform. She hadn’t realized his profession before. She hoped that meant he was an excellent driver. The second thing was amazement that they had managed to fit all these kids into just two motel rooms; there weren’t many seats left. One of the benches near the front had remained empty for Lauren and Peter however. Since Peter was sitting on Lauren’s lap, Claire slid in next to her and Jon sat alone across the aisle. Now was the time they waited. It was a good thing they had a lot of practice at it, because having to wait through this was nerve shattering.

  Lauren watched the goings-on outside her window. People were flooding out of the motel to their respective rides, packing themselves tightly into the vehicles. There were so many people that it was amazing they hadn’t torn each other to pieces. Perhaps it was because they had always known this day was coming that they were able to keep calm enough. The school bus had been the first vehicle loaded up, so they got to watch everyone else. Lauren quickly understood why they were the first to load; the adults weren’t so orderly with their lines, and there was a lot of shoving and bumping. A little kid could easily have gotten hurt. The few others, who had kids, carried them upon their shoulders. The new mothers watched from upstairs. They would be the last to load up, along with the injured.

  The soldiers, police officers, firemen, other paramedics, and volunteers, finished gathering the last of the supplies, and once the rooms were checked for stragglers, they got into the vehicles as well. Four soldiers, Private Winchester included, ran to the school bus and hopped on. They each carried a massive backpack on their back and carried two huge duffel bags. Lauren recognized two of the soldiers as the men she had seen in dress uniform the day of the hospital evacuation. They were in their dress uniforms now, except all the fancy adornments had been stripped from them.

  “What’s going on?” she asked as they laid their bags in the aisle between the bench seats. Winchester took the empty space next to Jon, while the others found seats along the length of the bus. All four of them held military rifles.

  “What do you mean?” Winchester glanced out the windows where the vehicles were starting up.

  “I wasn’t told you guys would be with us. And what’s with the packs and the guns?” Lauren didn’t know how the children felt, but it certainly made her nervous.

  “This is the most important vehicle.” Winchester frowned at her as if she should have figured this out on her own. “In case something happens, we’re to defend this bus at all costs. The packs are full of food and water in case the convoy gets split up. In fact, we have the best driver here, who is also a paramedic in case there’s a medical emergency. Percy, in the back there, he’s also a field medic. Just in case.”

  “We’re the most important?” Lauren guessed she should have figured that out on her own. She certainly thought the kids were the most important, but she hadn’t imagined Lieutenant Boyle thinking the same thing.

  The bus rumbled forward, following right behind the first Hummer. Lieutenant Boyle zipped past them on the dirt bike, positioning himself at the front of the convoy.

  Lauren turned and looked behind her at all the kids and their armed guards. Although the soldiers looked comfortable, none of the kids were. They looked terrified and bunched together on the seats. Claire grabbed Lauren’s arm and gripped it tightly as they drove through the gap in the fence. Despite the siren, a few slow zombies still lingered around outside. Many of the children turned away from the windows, not wanting to see the walking corpses up so close. Only a handful, like Jon, would know what to do if their protective walls weren’t around them.

  Lauren looked at Winchester. “I hope to hell you’re not needed.”

  18:

  Nicky Hui-Chang – Days 15-17

  Nicky lay in the dark, her face throbbing. The beating Orson had given her hadn’t healed yet, and it wouldn’t heal for some time longer. She accepted that, but it didn’t make the pain any duller. What made it easier to bear, was the thought that she wouldn’t have to put up with it too much longer. She knew Orson was going to kill her eventually. She actually kind of hoped he would just get it over with.

  After the beating and the bargain, she had been locked in the back of the truck with Isabelle and Jasmine. The two of them had worried and fretted over her, asking what happened. Nicky assured them that she was fine, even though it was difficult to do so. S
he couldn’t speak very well.

  Instead of receiving immediate demands for directions, they were driven around for a while. Nicky didn’t know for how long; she kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Whenever she came to, it was always the same: the white interior of the truck. At least the lights were left on this time. Isabelle told her they had stopped at times, and once were given a lot more food and water. She used some of the water and a rag to clean up Nicky’s face as best she could and helped her to eat and drink. Whenever they stopped, Orson and Hank would get out of the truck and sometimes be gone for hours.

  “Hank said he’s looking for his wife,” Isabelle told her one of the times they were stopped. “When Orson…did that to you…Hank spoke to us. He said he wanted to find his wife.”

  Nicky couldn’t believe that either of those men could be married. She knew Hank had been though. She had read their police records when they were to be released and knew he had been put in there for repeatedly beating his wife and kids. He also worked for the police, helping detectives with audio files or something. Maybe he was looking for his wife because he just really wanted to be a full-fledged detective. The city could always use another good cop, she thought bitterly.

  Remembering what was going on in the city, Nicky smiled painfully. Like another good cop would make any difference. Her mind was cracking, Nicky thought. When she lay in her semi-conscious states, she would think up crazy things, insane things. Dark things. A few times, she had awoken to her own laughter. Isabelle seemed to think she was crying when that happened and would attempt to reassure her as best she could. Nicky suspected that Orson had knocked more than a few screws loose. Either that, or when death sat by your bedside, he liked to whisper strange things.

  “If he’s so bad, why is he so nice to me?” Nicky had heard Jasmine asking her mother one of the times she had swum to her mind’s surface.

  “I’m not sure, honey,” Isabelle had answered.

  “Is it because he misses his daughter? Do I remind him of her?”