by Hakok, R. A.
Mags asks if everything’s okay. I hesitate a moment then nod and we continue making our way towards the entrance. The door hangs back on its hinges and when I look closer I can see scratches around the lock where somebody’s had at it with a pry bar. Spidey pings again at those, but the marks are old and he’s giving no other clue as to what’s suddenly getting him antsy. I set the container with the virus down and bend to my bindings. Mags is already out of hers and making her way in. I hear the snow crunch behind me and when I turn around the kid’s standing there. He stares at me for a moment then follows her.
I step out of my snowshoes and join them inside. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the gloom, but when they do I see the Juvies have spread themselves across the available booths. There’s still space left if they would bunch up and let us in, but no-one’s showing any sign of that. They keep their eyes down, making busy work of unwrapping their rations. A few even shuffle closer to the end. I’ve been taking my lunches with the kid since she started hiking out to find us shelter, so I’ve kinda gotten used to it. It’s been a while since she ate with us during the day, however, and now it seems like it’s bothering her. I look for Jake - he can generally be relied on to find a spot for Mags - but he’s got his back to the door and hasn’t spotted us yet. I tap her on the shoulder, point to a couple of stools at the counter.
‘Those’ll do.’
She makes no move towards them. She stares at the Juvies a moment longer then she says she’s not hungry; she’s going to go on, find us somewhere to pass the night. Her voice is low, barely a whisper, but there’s an edge to it that wasn’t there a moment ago. I start to tell her there’s no need. We’re close now; as long as Durham isn’t like Richmond there’ll be no shortage of places there. But then I stop. Her hands remain by her sides, but her fists are clenched, and when my eyes return to her face her expression has hardened. And there’s something else there too, something that makes me take a step back.
I tell her we’ll catch up with her soon as we can. She pushes past me without saying a word and hurries outside. The kid runs after her like he means to follow, but then stops. We both watch as she crosses the parking lot, bounds up the embankment and rejoins the highway. Whatever efforts she had been making to conceal her pace, those are forgotten now; it’s not long till she’s little more than a speck in the distance.
I stand in the doorway after she’s gone, uncertain what to make of what’s just happened. I head back into the diner, choose a stool at the counter and shuck off my pack, but before I can sit Lauren sees me and waves me over. A space has miraculously opened up next to her; as I watch she shuffles in to make more room. I’m not sure what else to do, so I head over and sit. She hands me her canteen. I use a splash from it to get the heater in my ration working then hold the bottle to my lips and take a sip. The water’s sharp with the cold; I can taste the ice crystals. I close my eyes and for a second, for no reason I can fathom, I’m sitting next to Mags outside a 7-Eleven, the sun warm on my face. There’s a white van in the parking lot, The Sacred Heart Home for Children printed in blue cursive along its side. I can feel the Big Gulp clutched to my chest, the first spike of brain-freeze from the soda I’ve just drunk too fast already on its way. Next to me Mags giggles, holds her hands out for it. I try to hold the memory, but then my head gives an involuntary shake and it’s gone. I pass the canteen back, feeling the water I’ve just swallowed settle cold in my stomach.
Lauren smiles at me as she takes it.
‘Not much longer now.’
*
AS SOON AS THE LAST food pouch has been emptied I get the Juvies to their feet and hustle them towards the door. The kid’s waiting for us out in the parking lot. He looks up when he sees me, happy that we’re on the move again. He scurries back to the interchange and disappears around the stricken semi without so much as a backward glance. I set off after him, but the Juvies show little interest in keeping up; it’s not long till they’re stretched out in their usual vagabond line behind me.
I ease back, resigning myself to their pace. My pack is light, barely worth the mention. With each step the container with the virus swings on its handle, but after weeks on the road I’ve grown accustomed to it. It hardly troubles me anymore; fact is there are days I even find it soothing. Marv said you always had to pay attention, but often, pounding the snow like this, with nothing to do but herd the Juvies along mile after mile of interstate my mind will slip out of gear and settle to an idle.
I’d be happy for it to do that now, but it won’t.
I look at Mags’ tracks, stretching out in front of me. I wonder how far ahead of us she is already. Probably in the city by now, the speed she took off. I tell myself it doesn’t have to mean anything. Her crucifix is still clear; I checked it only last night. She’s just pissed the Juvies are still being that way with her and the kid. She’ll calm down soon enough; by the time she comes back to us she’ll be fine.
The voice isn’t going to let me have that, though. As my snowshoes crunch into the shallow indentations she’s left it takes to whispering.
There was something else, though. You saw it.
My head dips inside the hood of my parka, before I can stop myself. Because the truth is I did.
Something behind her eyes.
Yes.
Like with Kurt. Almost as though…
Almost as though whatever she was battling with then was back.
We make our way into Durham.
I keep following the tracks she’s left, not really heeding much around me other than the occasional street sign. Little by little gas stations and strip malls give way to row houses with small yards, and then low-slung modern buildings. Spidey takes to grumbling again, but there’s no sign here of the fire-blackened concrete, the blown out walls, we saw in Richmond, so I hush him. We crest a shallow rise and I catch my first proper view of Durham’s skyline. Off in the distance small clusters of lonely high-rises huddle together, dotting the horizon. They seem in poor shape, listing this way or that or lying collapsed in rubble, the metal that once braced them virus-weakened, no longer able to bear the weight of concrete. They are a relief, nonetheless; proof that the devastation we witnessed earlier has not been visited here too.
Our pace slows the closer we get to the center. The Juvies stop at each cross street, craning their necks at the slowly disintegrating buildings, like each one we pass is a wonder. I stop often to let the stragglers catch up, making sure my charges don’t get too strung out behind me. The streets get busy. Vehicles rest where they’ve been abandoned, their trunks popped, their doors agape. Others have mounted sidewalks, or folded themselves around light poles. Around Eden the virus did a pretty good job of quieting the roads, but then Providence, Shiloah, Ely, those were all small towns. It doesn’t look like that was the way of it in the cities. Beyond the blast crater Richmond’s streets were clogged, and it’s no different here; Durham’s final traffic jam appears to have been a doozy.
The wind’s picked up a little while we’ve been making our way in and Mags’ tracks are already fading. The kid runs farther ahead, following her prints as though fearful they’ll be wiped clean before he’s able to find her again. For once I’m less anxious about her return. She’ll be back with us when she’s ready; there’s no shortage of places here we might hole up for the night. Best she takes the time she needs to sort out whatever’s going on inside her head.
Every now and then spidey pings at something he refuses to share but I keep going, navigating the wrecks largely on autopilot, committing the occasional landmark to memory, until eventually the burned-out hulk of a tractor-trailer blocks our path. I lose Mags’ tracks in a drift just this side of it, then I find them again, veering off through the parking lot of a VA medical center. The lot’s full, a sea of humped gray shapes sitting silent under a thick blanket of snow. The building on the far side of it’s in bad shape, even by the standards of what surrounds it. Its roofline sags pitifully and one entire wing has c
ollapsed to rubble, twisted rebar poking out through the concrete like the ribs of a decaying carcass. Marv always kept us away from places like this. After what I saw in Blacksburg I can’t say as I’d fault him for it.
I set the container with the virus in the snow while I wait for the Juvies to catch up. It’s a relief Durham’s not how Richmond was, but I can’t say I’m much looking forward to working it, all the same. It might have been an okay place, once, but a straight shot of ferro, followed by a few hectic weeks of looting and then a decade of neglect has put paid to that. There’s no shortage of hospitals here either; we’re not halfway through yet and I’ve already counted a worrying number of them. They’re easy to spot, even from a distance; that was where the virus did its best work. I stare up at the crumbling remains of the VA. Rows of dark, broken windows march off towards its edges, and for a second I think I see movement behind one of them. But when I look there it’s just the wind, tugging at the curtains. They flap uselessly, snagging on the edges of glass that still cling to the frames.
I wonder if it’s all the hospitals that have been making spidey so antsy. I mull it over for a little while, but somehow it doesn’t seem quite right. I look around, trying to work out what else it might be. It feels like it’s right there, all around me; if I could just focus for a moment it’d come to me.
Lauren’s snowshoes crunch the snow beside me.
‘Something wrong?’
I let my gaze linger a moment longer then shake my head.
We make our way down into the parking lot, picking a path between the abandoned cars. I call back to the Juvies not to touch anything. What Kane did to the skies should have struck the virus from the metal, but this close to a hospital I certainly don’t plan on taking chances. I breathe a sigh of relief when the last straggler clambers back up the embankment on the far side and we’re through. I do a quick head count and then we set off again.
The kid’s already picked up Mags’ tracks, so I let him lead the way. Spidey’s bleating grows louder, but I’m having no better luck working out what has him riled than earlier, so I just do my best to drown him out. A half-dozen blocks south of the VA I stop outside a Walgreen’s while I wait for the Juvies to catch up again. I’m staring at my reflection in the darkened storefront, when for no good reason my gaze shifts from the glass to the wall nearby, settling on a section of concrete there.
I stare at it while my brain slowly joins the dots. And then a spike of adrenalin sends my heart racing.
*
I SWING BACK TO THE DOORWAY, silently cursing myself for not paying more attention. I check again, to be sure I haven’t imagined it. But there’s no mistake. My eyes jump to the next building along. Another. Across the street, more, all around us, everywhere I turn, obvious now that I know what to look for.
How long have I been missing them?
I look ahead at the prints Mags has left in the snow, and for a second I consider just taking off after her. I take a deep breath, tell myself to calm down; I need to think for a moment, try not to do something stupid. Lauren’s been following in my tracks. She comes to a halt behind me.
‘What’s wrong?’
I tell her to get everyone off the road. Her eyes go wide and her mouth opens, like she might have a question, but something in the tone of my voice must convince her this isn’t the time to have it answered. She turns around and starts ushering the Juvies into the Walgreen’s.
I set the container with the virus down in the snow and turn my attention back to the street. Up ahead the kid’s stopped. He looks at me, wondering why we’re no longer following. I hold up a hand and beckon him to join us, quick. He hesitates for a second, eyeing what little’s left of Mags’ tracks like he doesn’t care to give them up, but then he swings his poles around and starts making his way towards us.
Lauren’s already herded most of the Juvies into the store as I begin retracing our steps. Jake calls out to me as I pass and asks what’s wrong. I tell him I’ll explain when I return; for now he needs to follow the others inside.
I make my way back the way we’ve come, ignoring his protests. I remember I have Hicks’ pistol, and for a moment I consider getting it out. But that would require digging around for it in my backpack, and in any event, it’s not loaded. I don’t plan to go far. A block or two, no more. Just enough to be certain.
The kid must have missed the memo about the Walgreen’s; before I’ve gone more than a hundred yards I hear his snowshoes behind me. I turn around to find him looking up at me. I point back to where Lauren and Jake are herding the last of the Juvies out of sight, but he doesn’t budge, just stares at me through the darkened lens of his goggles. I hold my mittens to my lips and he nods, once, like he understands. I set off again. He follows carefully in my tracks, watching as I search each doorway. When I reach the corner I cross over and check the next block, then the one after, just to be sure.
Tyler and Eric are the only ones still on the street when I return. They stand one on either side of the entrance to the Walgreen’s. They’ve both slung the rifles off their shoulders. Behind them the Juvies huddle together back in the shadows. They press forward when they see me, anxious to know what’s going on. Lauren squeezes her way to the front.
‘What is it, Gabe?’
I point a finger at the wall.
‘We’ve been passing them for a while.’ That must have been what spidey was pinging at, in the parking lot of the Bojangles. ‘Probably since we left the highway.’
She stares at the wall for a second and then her mouth draws taut. Behind her the Juvies crane their necks, anxious to see. There’s more than one puzzled expression; not all of them have figured out as quickly as she has what the red ‘X’ sprayed across the concrete means.
‘It’s a scavenging mark, just like Marv and I used to leave on the places we’d visit, so you don’t waste time working the same spot twice.’
From somewhere back in the shadows Amy pipes up.
‘Maybe they’re from a long time ago?’ She says it hopefully, like all she wants right now is for me to tell her it’s so. She’s not the only one looking for that comfort; I hear others behind her, murmuring in agreement.
I reach up. Like everything else the wall’s coated with a decade of grime. When I rub it the red comes off easy under my fingers.
‘Paint’s sitting on top.’ I dust it from my mitten. ‘I’ve been back a few blocks. The marks are older that way.’
Lauren continues to look at the wall.
‘They live somewhere to the north.’
I nod.
‘That’d be my guess. They come into the city to find what they need; probably been doing it a while. Each time they have to venture a little bit farther.’
‘We could have walked right past them.’
I look over at Amy again. Her eyes are wide now, panicky as cattle. She sounds close to tears. The rest of the Juvies are exchanging worried glances. None of them need to be reminded what happened when Mags and I ran into the soldiers.
‘I don’t think so.’ I say it with as much confidence as I can muster. I’ll need to leave them now, to go find Mags, but before I do that I have to calm them down. Nothing spreads faster than panic, that’s what Hicks had said, and right now the Juvies look no more than a couple of quick heartbeats from a stampede. ‘I haven’t seen any other tracks.’ I’m sure I wouldn’t have missed those.
I shuck off my backpack and set it on the ground. I undo the snaps and reach inside. My fingers find what they’re looking for – a heft of cold hard steel, wrapped in old leather. I pull the pistol out and start to unravel the gun belt.
Lauren’s gaze drops to the holster, and for a second it’s as if her eyes brighten. She takes a step closer and looks out onto the street, following what remains of the prints Mags has left. She rests one hand on my shoulder and bends closer, lowering her voice. Behind her the Juvies shuffle forward, anxious not to miss whatever’s being discussed.
‘Should we be going on, Gab
e? I mean, wouldn’t it be safer to head back? It’s like you said: we didn’t pass anyone on the way in.’
Jake narrows his eyes at that suggestion, but most of the others are nodding in agreement. I look up into their anxious faces, uncertain what to say. The truth of it is I don’t know. I have no idea who’s working this place, or how many of them there are, or what their intentions might be towards strangers. All I know is whoever they are they most likely come from somewhere behind us, and we haven’t yet reached the limits of their territory. Lauren could be right; they might be a few blocks ahead of us, even now. And if that’s the case Mags will already have run into them.
I loop the belt around my waist and buckle it, feeling the weight of the pistol settle against my hip.
‘You might well be right, Lauren. That’s why everyone’s going to wait here while I go find Mags. I don’t expect I’ll be long; she should have been coming back to us anyway.’
Unless she’s already run into whoever’s out there.
Jake pushes himself to the front.
‘I’ll come with you.’
I shake my head.
‘I’ll be quicker on my own.’
It comes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t have to explain it in a way that might save his feelings. I make for the door before he has a chance to argue.
Tyler and Eric are still standing guard by the entrance. Eric looks twitchier than I would have cared for. His eyes won’t settle in one place and his finger darts in and out of the trigger guard like it expects to have business there soon; I daresay Hicks would have a thing or two to say about his gun manners. Tyler seems calmer. He clutches his rifle to his chest, the barrel held low, his eyes slowly sweeping the street. For a second he reminds me of Benjamin, waiting for us by the portal on the day we arrived at Eden. I pull him to one side on my way out.