by E. M. Fitch
They spread the blankets out in the center of the roof, laying side by side under the fading stars.
"You hungry?" Jack asked.
Emma shook her head, yawning before pulling the fleshy bit of her lip between her teeth. She took a deep breath and held her arms out in front of herself, stretching her fingers in a wide fan.
"No tremors?" Jack asked, turning to look at her.
"I don't think I'll be biting at you yet."
"How's your chest?"
Emma brought her hands down and skimmed her fingertips over the abrasion from the infected man's teeth. It was crusty and dry, already scabbing. "It's fine," she answered.
There was a large catalogue of injuries she felt they should go over. His side, her leg, residual fevers, and the minor cuts and scrapes both sustained from running through the woods and into that grain silo. But for the moment, sleep was pulling at her. The sun would be up soon and as exhausted as they both were, Emma doubted they'd be able to sleep much through the waking and feeding frenzy of the infected below. She let her eyes slide shut, knowing instinctively that Jack was doing the same. Her body eased and she let the lure of sleep pull her under, feeling secure for the first time all day atop the high perch of the canopy.
Chapter 6
"What's wrong with him?"
Anna didn't answer, her ear was pressed to Andrew's chest. His breath was coming in short, painful gasps.
"I need a needle, a syringe; and a bottle of water. And tubing, any kind of tubing."
Kaylee stood and took off in a run. There was a pharmacy in the store, they had run past it. She knocked through a grouping of men that tried to hold her back.
The stream of light didn't illuminate the pharmacy well. She saw a lifeless body on the floor, smears of black blood haloing his head. It wasn't Bill. That was all she had time to notice. She dug through the shelves, knocking bottle of aspirin and children's cough syrup on the floor. The pharmacist's counter was directly in front of her. She hopped on top and then over, landing with a thud as Anna's voice rung out.
"Hurry, Kaylee!"
There were metal shelves, lined with white bottles and labels Kaylee couldn't read and wouldn't understand. The back of the pharmacy was a wall of drawers. She ripped them open. Bottles of sterile water sat in the bottom of the first drawer, she grabbed one. In the next were white boxes, bottles of clear medicines, medical equipment, nebulizers and blood pressure cuffs. In the last drawer, she found the needles.
Packed in clear packaging with white labels, Kaylee grabbed a handful of the biggest she saw. There was no tubing. Panic ripped up Kaylee's throat and in a moment of clarity she remembered the nebulizer treatments her mother used to give to Emma when she had a bad cold. The coil of clear tubing flashed in her vision and she yanked open the drawer with the packaged nebulizers, bringing the entire box with her.
Andrew's breathing had worsened noticeably. Even in the low light, Kaylee could see his lips were tinged in blue. He was awake, grunting as he breathed, his eyes wielding from Anna to the bored men who stood over him.
Anna grabbed at the items Kaylee held out for her, grimacing. She pulled the tubing from the nebulizer, instructed one of the nearby men to cut a piece the length of her arm. She ripped open a syringe and pulled off the plastic cap, exposing a long, thin needle.
"What's wrong with him?" Kaylee asked again, kneeling next to Andrew. Her own breath was coming hard. She grabbed for his hand and squeezed tight, reveling in the firm pressure with which he squeezed back.
"Collapsed lung," Anna murmured. "He needs a chest tube. I don't have one. This is all I can think of. Someone hand me a knife."
Kaylee looked up to see the raised eyebrows of the men surrounding them. One pulled out his pocketknife, flipping the blade open. He went to hand it over but another stopped him, dousing the blade with clear liquid from his flask. Kaylee wrinkled her nose at the smell, sharp and bitter. Anna nodded in approval and took the alcohol soaked knife gingerly. Her fingers prodded along Andrew's chest, rising and falling with his gasping breaths. She settled them firmly between two ribs, pausing for the first time.
"I need him as still as possible," she said, looking up to the men. They nodded, some glancing over their shoulders and to the front door where Kaylee knew a horde of infected were waiting to be released. To their credit, no one argued. Everyone took a limb, some of the men laying right across Andrew. Kaylee held fast to his hand, pressing the rest of her weight on his forearm. She couldn't see his face.
But she could hear his scream. There may have been other sounds, sounds of the needle piercing his skin, a pop or hiss when the tip of the needle found the pressurized area that trauma had forced into his chest, but if there were, no one would have been able to hear. Kaylee saw the syringe get tossed, its clear cavity filled with blood. She knew, realistically, that it was only a few moments. It felt like hours of Andrew writhing and yelling before Anna instructed the men to let him up. They all moved, leaving Andrew panting on the ground, the bloody end of a small curl of tubing hanging from where Anna pierced it through Andrew's chest. Already a stream of blood was flowing from the cut end of the tube, dripping down his side.
But his breaths did come easier, that was plain to see.
"I think I got it right," Anna said. The knife was still in her hand and she let it fall with a clatter to the floor. She opened the bottle of sterile water, pouring half of it on the ground behind her. She stuck the end of the tube in the water, the drips of blood forming pink swirls in the liquid. One of the men offered a length of duct tape. Anna took it, securing the tubing to Andrew's chest. "You have to tell me, Andrew, if anything feels off, if it gets hard to breath."
He nodded, his eyes closed tight in pain.
"That's about all the time we have, ladies. Let's get you to the jeeps." Michael stood over Andrew's head. At his word, four men bent down and picked Andrew up. Anna held tight to the bottle of water, keeping it close to Andrew's body. One of the men bent to retrieve his knife. They started to the front of the store, no one answering when Andrew asked where his father was.
"Will he make it?" Kaylee asked, keeping her voice low as she followed Anna. Anna shook her head, not meeting Kaylee's eyes.
"I really don't know."
It took only a moment to explain the situation outside to Anna. Her eyes roved over the makeshift fences, the infected creatures straining against them, the parking lot and road they had traveled down completely covered in roaming bodies. She nodded without speaking and got into the jeep with Andrew. Kaylee's stomach plunged, the pull of the road that led to her sister and Jack nearly irresistible. But there was no way to follow it now. There was no way she could stay where she was. She climbed into the passenger seat just as Michael started the engine.
The ride was bumpy, but fast. Which was good. Kaylee doubted Andrew would be able to take much more. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his grimace was constant. Twice she caught him trying to look behind. Anna had told him quietly that Bill was missing. The muscles in his jaw jumped and his teeth mashed together, a different kind of pain ripping through him.
There was nothing they could do for Bill one way or another now.
After only a few miles, Kaylee saw signs of people. A hazy smoke rose into the sky, the smell of roasting meat drifting on the breeze. Saliva flooded her mouth and her stomach churned. In the sudden rush, she felt lightheaded and dizzy, aware for the first time in a long time that she hadn't eaten since she left her sister and Jack.
She wondered if they had food, wherever they were. Did they escape the wave of infected bodies? Were they running, even now? Was Bill? The guilt at leaving them behind ate at her, twisting her stomach in ways that even the smell of food couldn't overcome. She glanced at Andrew but he wouldn't meet her eye.
They passed sentinels, men standing guard on the top of broken down buses. They nodded over their shotguns as the jeeps drove past.
The Squatters, because that's who these men undeniably were, camp
ed in a circle of vehicles. It reminded Kaylee of the stories of wagon trains that her teachers used to tell them, trying to explain the origin of the old saying "Circle the wagons!" Only these wagons were motorhomes and school buses, dozens of them, outfitted with sheet metal and machine guns. They parked close together, a complete circle with no room between vehicles. The jeeps stopped nearby, men filing out. They waited in a line until a ladder was lowered. One by one they climbed to the hood of a bus, hopping down into the circle and disappearing from view.
Kaylee's first thought was that there was no way Andrew would be able to get through. Someone would have to haul him up the ladder and over. It would hurt. But within moments, an engine roared to life and the circle was moving, an opening appearing between the vehicles big enough for four men to carry Andrew through.
Inside the circle was a ragged bunch of people, some older than Bill, most closer to Anna's age. There was two that looked young enough to have been in high school when the world had collapsed. They regarded Andrew and the girls with frank curiosity, the rest held cautious, guarded expressions.
All these people, Kaylee couldn't help but think, and only a few days journey from The Mill. They could have all been housed, pushed out the fences, cleared out a little bit of humanity into the stark wildness the world had become. But it was all gone now, washed down the river by a lunatic with a bomb. Stupidity, it seemed, would never die out.
Michael introduced them to the group. Several men pulled him to the side and Kaylee could hear them asking if there were any bite marks, any reason to search them. Michael waved them off, explained that they had already checked. From the gaze that traveled down the length of her, Kaylee thought at least one of the men wanted to check again. It made her skin crawl, feeling his hostile eyes on her. She ignored it. Andrew was still the priority.
They dragged an old mattress out from one of the buses, placed it by the large cook fire they had going in the center of the circle. Kaylee could see the slow turn of what smelled like venison over the open flame. She bit her cheek and turned away, willing her eyes to focus on Andrew.
"You must be starving." A woman slowly approached them. She had soft brown hair, a little wild around her oval face, and she was wearing a faded red flannel shirt. Kaylee was instantly reminded of her mother. The gentle eyes, the slight pull of her mouth as she watched the beat up survivors, this woman was a mother to someone, or she had been. "My name is Rebecca, I'll get you some food."
Several people watched the exchange, some with hostility, some with restrained curiosity.
"Food would be wonderful," Kaylee said. Her stomach was already folding over at the thought of the venison.
"Water, too," Anna added in a low voice, "if it's not too much trouble."
Rebecca smiled and turned away.
Anna squatted by Andrew's head, adjusting the water bottle drainage system and murmuring lowly to him. When the food came, she encouraged him to take a few bites. He managed to, propped up by a stray backpack. But his head was drooping and it was only a matter of moments before he was asleep.
"That's a pretty impressive piece of work," Rebecca said, pointing a bent fork towards Andrew. Anna offered a strained smile in thanks. Rebecca had brought them four plates of food, one for each and one for herself. She sat next to Kaylee, not speaking as Anna coaxed Andrew to eat and Kaylee inhaled her food. The venison was tough but flavorful. Kaylee tried to focus on chewing slowly, not gulping the bites of meat down. She knew her stomach would pay for it later, letting the food slam into her empty belly. But hunger struggled to overrule senses and she ate faster than she wanted to. Still, with the rush of sustenance entering her blood stream, she felt sated and at ease. Andrew was asleep, but breathing easier.
"He's better," Kaylee said, letting her eyes drift over him. "How long does the tube have to stay in?"
Anna shrugged. "I'm really not sure. It could be a day, it could be a couple of days."
"Not a couple of days," Andrew muttered, his eyes still closed. Anna frowned.
"You're supposed to be asleep," she admonished, shushing him.
"Michael said he rescued you all from those men at the Wal-Mart," Rebecca said softly once Andrew quieted down again. Anna nodded. "I hope you're not hurt too badly?"
Kaylee let her eyes drift back from Andrew. She caught Rebecca's eye. She wasn't looking to the battered boy, her eyes rested firmly on the girls in front of her. Kaylee stiffened. "You know them?"
"Too well," Rebecca murmured. There was an old sadness there, one Kaylee and Anna recognized without ever having had to experience it.
"Sorry," Kaylee murmured.
"It was a long time ago," Rebecca answered, shrugging. There was a tightness at the corner of her mouth that suggested that no matter the length of time, what happened would never be forgivable. "Are they dead?"
"Most of them," Anna answered. "Some escaped. At least, we hope some did." Her eyes flit over Andrew and Kaylee was sure the same thought was racing through her mind. Bill.
"How is it here?" Kaylee asked, mostly to cover the awkward pause. The rest of the group seemed to drift to their own pursuits. There was still a small cluster of women around the cook fire. The venison had been removed from the spit and was being carved on a flat slab of rock nearby. People were starting to line up, dented tin plates and tupperware lids in hand. Some had utensils, pocketknives, most seemed to use their fingers as Kaylee and Anna had.
"No one will attack you," Rebecca rushed to say. "I mean, it's safe. Enough."
"We met Michael," Anna prompted. She still had some food left on her plate and she was chewing slowly.
"Yeah, Michael usually leads the raids. James and Patricia run things in the Circle."
Kaylee looked up and felt her eyes drift to who she felt must be James and Patricia. Set a little apart, they stood, leaning close to each other, but with their eyes roving the crowd. They were similar in features, their skin was dark and beautiful, almost blending with the beige fatigues they both wore. They both had short, cropped black hair. The only distinguishable difference was that there was no mistaking Patricia for male. Her form, the way she held herself, even in the combat gear and with a gun slung over her shoulder, she was indisputably female. Her eyes shifted and locked on Kaylee's, pale hazel and striking. Kaylee attempted a smile and after a moment, Patricia simply looked away.
"Brother and sister?" Kaylee asked Rebecca. The woman smiled.
"Cousins," she answered. "Both in the National Guard. They were stationed somewhere near here in an evacuation center. Of course, that was overrun. We all found each other and now we're here, in the Circle. We move around a lot. Add new vehicles when we find more people. Keep mobile."
"How many are here?"
"It fluctuates. Today, around thirty."
A shadow fell over Kaylee's shoulder and she stiffened, her hand stretching automatically for her weapon. Before her fingers could wrap around the handle, she spoke.
"Michael said you were held hostage, one injured, one missing." Her voice was softer than Kaylee expected and it caught her off guard. She turned to find Patricia staring down at her. Her gaze was intense and unflinching, something about the challenge in those eyes stirred Kaylee to action.
"One injured, three missing," she answered. "My sister and... and Jack were in the town you flooded with biters."
"That's right, Mike did mention that," James said. He came from behind his cousin and squat on the ground next to Anna. He examined the water bottle drainage system propped next to Andrew. "Nice work, that."
Anna thanked him while Patricia kept her eyes locked on Kaylee. Andrew was asleep, no movement near him except the occasional bubbles that broke the surface of the water bottle.
"What are your plans?" Patricia asked, still staring at Kaylee. Kaylee took a bite of venison before answering.
"He needs rest," Kaylee said, nodding towards Andrew, "a couple days at least. Then we'll be going."
"Back there?" Patricia asked, jerkin
g her head in the direction of the parked jeeps. Kaylee nodded. "There's no one left back there. It's pointless."
"Our family's left back there and we're going to get them." The words were firm and Kaylee locked eyes with Patricia as she spoke them. James's lips quirked in an amused smirk.
"Well, we have safety and food," James said. "You're welcome to come with us."
"Come with you?" Anna asked, frowning.
"We don't stay in one place for too long," James answered. "Especially with the fences we took down. In fact, we're giving the order to pack up in the next hour, after everyone's done eating."
They didn't wait for Kaylee's reply, both standing and getting in the growing line for food. Kaylee shot Anna a quick look and knew in an instant, they didn't have a choice.
"When do you think he'll wake up?" Kaylee asked, nodding towards Andrew. Anna shrugged.
"Definitely if we have to move him, maybe before."
"I want to tell him," Kaylee said. In her mind she was picturing his reaction. He would be angry. She didn't blame him. His father was lost, possibly hurt. There was a chance Bill was dead. Andrew would want to run back the second he could stand. But the reality was, Andrew couldn't stand. He couldn't run. And Kaylee and Anna alone couldn't keep him safe. Their best shot at staying alive was to stick with these strangers, even if it meant moving further from Bill. It was the hard reality they were facing. It should be Kaylee who explained this to Andrew. She owed him that.
Anna nodded and scraped her plate clean. "Why don't you rest then," she suggested, pointing to the ground next to Andrew. "I have to keep an eye on him anyway."
The ground was hard, rocky and unforgiving. But with her arm propped under her head and her eyes sliding closed, the noise of the camp around her and Rebecca's soft murmuring to Anna, Kaylee fell to sleep without hesitation.