All the Devils Here

by Astor Penn

  “Stay between us, okay?” Aaron adds.

  It seems ridiculous, our precaution, when we step outside; it’s one of those gorgeous days when I forget what’s happened. Just sunny enough to pierce through the lingering morning chill, the running water placating my ears, but when we depart it’s Raven, Aaron, and me in the front, Poppy keeping a distance from us in case we trip some kind of alarm, and Bryant in the rear, lingering far enough behind that he might as well not be with us.

  The bridge creaks like music to my ears, but it does nothing to soothe my stomach. My nerves feel raw and frayed; I haven’t felt this kind of fear for the past few months. There comes the point at which you can no longer hope for the best, no longer hope that your loved ones are alive and well and waiting for you somewhere, and then suddenly your own need for self-preservation no longer drives you quite the same way. I have pushed myself from day to day with the very conscious thought that today may be the last, and nothing is more painful than when you accept it.

  In the presence of others, my own humanity returns. The days have been so dark, I have forgotten the lightness of others. I have forgotten what it means to have family and friends. I want to keep moving, to keep searching for hope. I want to stand on my front porch one more time and know for sure.

  This also means I feel fear again. Not just for myself, but for others too. It was so much easier before.

  “It’s beautiful,” Poppy says from behind us, nervously edging closer than she should.

  And it is, despite the obvious recent neglect. Beyond the bridge start small, one-story buildings, all painted a faded red to match the mill. From where we stand, I can barely make out the length of the road—it’s hard to tell just how large the town is. I’m assuming not very, given the quaint, picturesque quality that is desperately achieved and what I could see last night perched in the window.

  “In and out before nightfall,” Bryant says, pulling up next to us. Nodding, I glance at Poppy’s empty hands.

  “Maybe she should stay here.” I suggest it quietly, but she hears it, of course, frowning.

  “Maybe you both should,” Aaron suggests. Bryant doesn’t say a word but opens the chamber on the gun, barely glances at it, then snaps it shut again. Repeat. It seems to be a nervous habit.

  “I want to look too!”

  Bryant nods his head. “We can’t leave her alone.”

  No one volunteers to stay behind with her, probably because despite spending the last couple of nights together, none of us really trust each other. We all want to get in and out with our own supplies, and if things go sour or if we each slip off quietly on our own, well. At least we’ll have our own asses covered.

  “So we all go.” Shifting the weight of my bag on my back, I march toward the bridge. I won’t be left behind, and neither will Poppy. She marches on right beside me. Behind us, I hear Bryant’s heavy boots hit the wood of the bridge once he gets there.

  “Stick close, Barbie,” Aaron says. “I might protect you.”

  “She doesn’t need your protection,” Raven says. She moves so quietly it’s hard to keep track of where she is—behind my back, on either side. “What good is your bat going to do when she can throw a knife through someone’s heart?”

  Aaron raises his eyebrows. “I’ve never seen you use your knife.” He likes to ignore Raven like she’s not there. I don’t miss it, and she certainly doesn’t either. I hope he watches his back in town.

  “You don’t want to. It’ll be the last thing you see.” When Raven slides up next to me, half grinning (only on my side where I can see it), I realize I’m joking. Kidding around with people my own age. It’s strange. It would have been strange even if I was surrounded by classmates still.

  Aaron takes a few steps back toward Poppy; I’d love to think it’s because he’s scared or takes me halfway seriously, or maybe just because he knows his place is not with the two of us. Looking at my girl now, I want to believe she feels the same way and that whatever lies across this bridge, we’ll stick together.

  But I don’t lie to myself, not now, not ever. It could cost me my life. So I stop smiling.

  Belatedly, I wonder if it’s a good idea to cross into town by the bridge in case it’s marked somehow to report movement; such means have been used before, and I’ve witnessed it. The stream below us doesn’t look too deep to cross, but it’s too late now. We enter the town, and whatever lies inside waits for us. The creaking of the bridge sounds like the creaking of a noose tightening around our necks.

  Chapter 7

  SHOPPING IN an abandoned grocery store makes for a short trip; we expect it to be picked over, and it is. We scavenge a few jars of vegetables, pickles mostly, and raid the back where shipments used to come. There’s even less there. As we walk out the front, Poppy stops next to the cash registers. There is one open, cash still tucked under the clips. Obviously, it was opened after money became meaningless.

  “Do you think I could take it?” she asks. Reverently, she touches a stack of twenties. “We never had much money. It seems so strange now to let it go to waste.”

  Bryant and I exchange a look. He shrugs. “I don’t think anyone is going to miss it.”

  She’s still counting it as we cautiously exit through the back; there still is no sign of anyone. All is quiet, although no one has given a sigh of relief yet.

  “Pharmacy?” I ask. We’ll all need a basic first aid kit if we strike out on our own again. I quickly squash down any feeling I have about them leaving me. It’s my choice. I need to keep moving west, and maybe Raven will go with me for now. She never did say where she was headed, and somehow, standing in the middle of the eerily quiet street, I can’t bring myself to ask her. Not in front of the others.

  Aaron takes lead toward the main street. We’d noticed the pharmacy already—it’s just a block down from the grocery store. On the street, our feet crunch on dirty shards of glass. Every storefront window has been busted wide open, and various items lay strewn across the sidewalk. We pass a children’s store where I vaguely recognize delicate china broken in with the glass. A doll’s eye from a piece of a face haunts me, watches me. Poppy glances inside the store curiously, still pocketing the money.

  Bryant and I exchange a short look; there is no time for children’s toys. I surprise even myself when I step up behind her and shepherd her forward before Bryant can. Before I take that hand away, Poppy latches onto it. It’s strange—I held hands with Raven briefly, and here just a short time later, my humanity continues to act and thrive. How could I have known that I would have more friends postapocalypse than preapocalypse?

  While we don’t know what to expect inside town, what strikes me the most about this place is not the decrepit nature of it but the quiet of it. Not only is there an absence of living people here, which was to be expected, but I have not seen a single body anywhere, which I did expect. There was no time for burials when the initial outbreak happened; too many, too fast, and everyone trying to run away from it. The closest I’ve seen are the unusual fires burning from a distance, ashes and something pungent on the wind that eventually gave them away. It’s strange to see a residential area without visible evidence of death. No bones, no ash, no flesh left.

  “Do you think someone came through here and burned the bodies?” I ask Bryant quietly.

  He nods. “Maybe even the government, already cleaning up places.”

  “That’s why they’re rounding us up.”

  “Wiping out every possible lead to the pandemic.” Bryant stops, crouching down. “They’ll put everyone in camps, exterminate those who are infected or have even the slightest chance of infection, and then save the rest for when everything is clear. Put them in towns like these that they’ve already cleaned through.”

  His fingers shift through the dirt and what I assume is ash from an old campfire in the town square. It’s both strange and comforting to think that neighbors once huddled here for warmth and comfort. Picking around the glass, he plucks something f
rom the ruin: a thick gold band. A man’s wedding ring.

  “We need to move faster,” I say, glancing up at the sky, ignoring the street lamp flickering pathetically above us. This is a ghost town, probably no different than many others, but it’s alarming me. I haven’t ventured inside a town like this in many weeks.

  “Right. Pharmacy, then maybe see about some more clothes.” Bryant opens the front door to a small two-story building wedged between a café and restaurant, a red cross with a family name written above it. The bell still rings, but inside all there is to greet us is a heavy cloud of dust.

  Raven slides up to my side again. She’s not afraid to turn corners and wander farther outside of the group to inspect things—broken toys, broken windows, broken homes. The others keep a cautious eye on her. I don’t bother. I know that, for the moment, she’s not going anywhere. Not until she gets what she needs.

  While I shift through the waste of granola, protein, and candy bars extraordinaire inside the pharmacy, looking for anything that’s still mostly packaged, regardless of expiration date, I think of the pharmaceuticals I need. Pain meds in case of major injury, or maybe even something for my allergies, which I know will worsen the closer I get to home, if I can find something. Allergy pills weren’t high on priority lists for most, so maybe I’ll luck out there.

  Beside a few protein bars, nothing I find has any real nutritional value, but I take anything remotely edible. The higher fat content, the better in this case. There are a few half bottles of warm water in a fridge in the office, so I put two in my own bag, now heavier with dented jars and cans and bars, but carry the majority of them in my arms to Bryant. At his feet is a makeshift bag made of stapled curtains and sheets we found in a residence near the grocery store, and I put most of what I found in there. They’ll need more supplies than I will on my own, even with Raven. Perhaps they’ll even meet and adopt more people, given that Bryant is one of the last few kind people left.

  Poppy is on the other side of the store, shifting through miscellaneous items. There are baby diapers, a few tattered magazines, some cosmetic items. She picks up a bottle of nail polish, squinting at it because it’s dark in the store and we don’t dare turn on the lights, even if they did work. Behind me, Bryant casually glances at different boxes and pill bottles, tossing them behind his shoulder or into the bag as he sees fit. Aaron crouches there, arranging them, commenting on some.

  “When are we going to need antidepressants? I know no one is exactly happy, but now doesn’t seem the time.”

  “Some antidepressants have other positive side effects other than a happy feeling. They usually come with more negative side effects than it’s worth, but we may need them in a pinch.”

  Rattle. Pop. Toss. He continues to go through shelves, counting and sometimes sniffing things. Right now, I realize, I could quietly walk out the door and neither of them would even notice. I could leave right now, and they’d be okay on their own. There’s nothing holding me to them any longer. I upheld my promise to see them through the emergency I caused. They have no need for me, but when I turn to check if Poppy is watching, I pause. She’s brushing on the nail color, harmlessly and carefully, tongue stuck out, and I realize that already I miss them.

  I would like to think it’s not a weakness to admit that I need others. What is the point of surviving if I’m all alone at the end of it? I struck out on my own in the first place to find my family and to know for sure their fate, but I can’t help thinking that my parents would be ashamed to see me now.

  But I’ve also seen firsthand what happens to people willing to stop for others, the people like Bryant and his group: they’re trampled on, lied to, stolen from, left for dead. That kind are taken advantage of the same way as before, except now there’s no law to protect them from the very worst. When everything is taken from them, it means death. Fortunately, I’ve never considered myself a particularly kind person.

  Still, I’ve already been persuaded that neither Poppy nor Bryant would steal from me, even in the most dire situations. Aaron is the one I might make into a villain, but I’m not sure if I can imagine him maliciously beating anyone for food. I like to think I’ve already seen them at their worst—cornered, or rather half buried, in a field without much hope of outrunning the men in vehicles—and they still turned out decent. If it had been Aaron on his own, though—that’s what I wonder about. He did stay with them. He must be more good than I give him credit for, but I don’t trust him. Not like the others. Not even as much as I trust a wild girl with wire for her friend.

  Halfway to the door on my tiptoes, I’m poised behind one of the outer shelves that’s still standing. Poppy doesn’t notice me, and Bryant and Aaron are still busy tossing pills at each other like it’s a religious ritual. Raven, meanwhile, is standing not far from me in the corner, watching my every move. She’ll follow or won’t follow. It’s up to her.

  I know the bell on the door will ring; I’ll have to quietly crawl through the broken window. Outside, it’s already getting late—after stopping for a meal in the grocery store, we had a sit-down to rest for a while. Some of us dozed for a while, myself included. It could be a long trek tonight without any rest, and without the safeguard of anyone to watch me in the future, it will be a while before I find such sound sleep again. If I noticed Raven stayed awake the whole time next to me, I certainly didn’t dwell on it.

  As I brace my hands on the top of the high window ledge, suddenly from out of the near dark, artificial light shines through the streets, pouring into the pharmacy. We all freeze; it’s not until I see my shadow growing long and sideways that I realize the light is moving.

  It’s almost exactly like stumbling onto that road, half asleep, just two days ago, except there are fewer places to run or hide here. Suits aren’t afraid of buildings. They’re afraid of the woods.

  “They’ve been waiting for us,” someone says quietly behind me. Raven, I think.

  Suddenly the creaking and crunching of glass is deafening, and how they managed to sneak up on us is a lost point to me, but one thing is clear: the men in hazmat suits are here for us, coming this way right now, and I am the first thing in their path.

  Pivoting, I sprint only two strides toward the back before I yank Poppy along by her arm. The physical jolt of her weight against mine feels the same as the jolt to my heart as it doubles its rate. Bryant grabs her other arm and pulls us both down behind the cover of the counter toward Aaron, Raven falling right behind me.

  “There’s no way out of here,” he says, voice even but demanding. Calm. Always so calm.

  I shake my head. “There’s a window in the back bathroom.” I noticed it when investigating the best way for me to quietly slip out, but I know even before we all rush for the small room that the window is barely large enough for Poppy or Raven to crawl through, forget Bryant or Aaron.

  Behind us, we hear voices. They aren’t solely male, like I always anticipate, but distinctively female as well, and none of them sound kind. They’re yelling. Then the amplified megaphone voice commands, “We’re not here to harm you, rather take you where it’s safe. Please come out slowly and let us help you.” This voice is smooth like honey, the voice of a doctor telling you the bad news in such a way he makes you believe it’ll all be all right, and you believe him.

  “We know you have the old and the young with you. Let us help take care of them. We are outfitted to do so.”

  We crawl on all fours into the bathroom, and as the first one in, I jack my knife under the latch on the window, trying to get it open. When I hear this I stop, glancing at Bryant. We both look down at Poppy, who’s straining to look back through the shop.

  “There are others in this town,” Aaron says, stepping up to help me with the window. People we didn’t see, who maybe saw us from a window somewhere. “Other people squatting here that must have both kids and elderly. Surely they can’t be referring to any of us.”

  “Get that window open,” Bryant says, clicking the safety off
his gun and pulling Poppy away from the open door. He stands on guard, back against the wall, hidden, even though they’re aware we’re here and yet seem timid for the moment to enter the building.

  For the first time, I think about their occupational hazard. How many people have they lost trying to bring in the poor souls who didn’t want to be brought in? Why bother? It’s not worth it. No one wants to be the pied piper, marching innocents to their death.

  Crunching glass grows louder. They’re either entering the store or just outside it. They’ll have guns, or stunners, or whatever they need to bring us down and in.

  “Just break the glass!” Bryant finally screams.

  Rolling my hand inside my sleeve, I brace myself for a blow that I never deliver. Instead, the glass shatters in every direction. Poppy screams; I feel a shard bounce off my cheek and tumble down my neck. I put myself in front of the younger girl and flinch backward.

  Raven has shattered the glass bare-handed. Blood rolls down both arms, more thickly on her right, and the look on her face is the most frightening I’ve yet seen, but all I can think is I need to clutch her to me and indulge in skin-to-skin relief and comfort.

  “They’ve been watching this place all day, waiting for us,” she says, ignoring the blood. “And they won’t have me.”

  She motions with her hand, looking straight at me, intending to help me through, but I thrust Poppy into her arms first. Frowning, she helps maneuver the girl through the window by letting her crawl onto her shoulders. “Careful, there’s only a trashcan to step on beneath you.”

  Watching Poppy’s tiny body fit through the frame, I turn to Bryant, whose one shoulder probably won’t even fit. He nods to me. “Take care of her for me. Be careful. Do what you have to do, but don’t stay stationary too long.”

  Aaron nods, taking a break from looking out the cracked bathroom door. We hardly all fit inside, my sides brushing Bryant and Raven and Aaron all at once. Outside, Poppy’s lonely whimpers drift through the window.