by Chris Babu
They reentered to the main section of the store and collected ten empty bottles, stuffing a few in their pants’ pockets. When they returned to the entrance, Eugene and Charlie were leaning against a cash register, chatting.
“How about we fire some warning shots?” Charlie suggested.
“Or just shoot ‘em all,” Eugene countered. “No warning.”
Charlie nudged Eugene, drawing his attention to the bowl in Drayden’s hands. “You hungry? Dray’s gonna toss a salad.”
“It’s the best we could do,” Drayden said. “Shoot what?”
“The wolves,” Eugene said, biting down on his lower lip. “We’re kinda trapped at the moment.”
A few of the wolves had lain down, panting. Others frantically paced and howled.
Even though the wolves might be plotting to eat them, they were only doing what they were supposed to do. They weren’t evil wolves.
“I don’t want to kill them,” Drayden said. “The world is rebuilding, repopulating. We can’t be killing stuff.”
“Dray’s right,” Catrice said. “Life is evolving again, in a new way. We shouldn’t be destroying it. What if these are the last wolves left in the world?”
Sidney rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to save my sister and you’re worried about the wolves?”
“So, should we let them eat us?” Charlie asked.
Drayden cocked his head. “No, of course not—that’s not what we’re saying. If it’s us or them, obviously we choose us. How about that warning shot first, to scare them off?”
Eugene twirled his pistol. “Fine. I’m going to fire a few shots out that door we came through. You guys watch through the glass doors, see what they do.” He cracked the steel door and peeked through. After he stuck the muzzle of the Glock out, he aimed high and fired two crisp shots, the loud pops echoing throughout the store.
The wolves scrambled away into the tall grass.
Sidney cheered. “It worked!”
“Ah, wait a minute.” Charlie raised his finger in the air. “They’re still there, roaming in the parking lot now. Sweet.”
Eugene returned to see for himself. “I think we gotta kill ‘em, bro,” he said to Drayden.
Drayden sulked. They did need to leave the store. They had to survive and make it to Boston before the Guardians. “How? If we go out there and we miss, we’ll get swarmed.”
Eugene surveyed the parking lot. “I think me, Sid, and Charlie can pick them off from in here. There were seven, total. At a minimum we can off a few of them before we venture outside.”
The three of them handled their rifles. They checked the ammo, loaded fresh magazines.
“Hold on a sec,” Drayden said. “They’re—something’s up.”
The others gathered behind him to watch through the glass doors. A wolf howled in the distance. The pack sprinted away down Route 3a, in the opposite direction, chasing a deer.
The lead wolf snagged it, tackling it to the ground. When the rest caught up, they ravished the unlucky animal.
Drayden’s eyes widened. “Let’s go, right now!” He led the way to the door, cracking it enough to see outside.
The sunlight blinded him for a second.
“We hug the front of the store and continue north, off the street,” he whispered.
“Weapons live,” Eugene whispered.
Drayden drew his pistol, even though it might as well have been a toy gun.
“Go!”
He bolted out.
CHAPTER 23
The late afternoon sun cast broad shadows in the heart of Plymouth, Massachusetts.
Sidewalks lined the streets and buildings nestled close together, like in New America. It fell somewhere between small city and large town.
Since Drayden had started a habit of making mental notes to himself, he noted to beware of wolves, especially if deer were around. They’d escaped the pack outside Stop & Shop by pure luck, at the expense of an unfortunate deer. Now they walked with their weapons live all the time.
“Plymouth was where the Pilgrims settled,” Eugene said to nobody in particular. “The birthplace of America. Like New America, PostCon.”
Charlie carried the metal bowl, a fact impossible to forget due to his constant drumming on it. Occasionally he supplemented the drumming with singing.
“For the love of God, will you pleeease stop!” Sidney said.
“I’m keeping the wolves at bay.” To some tune nobody recognized, in a wretched singing voice, he belted, “I’m keeping the wooo-lves at baa-aay.”
Drayden coughed. “The wolves might attack just to shut you up.”
Catrice chuckled when she looked back at Charlie, who’d stopped drumming and now wore the bowl on his head like a hat.
“It’s a little ironic, don’t you think?” Charlie asked. “We found a bowl, and now we can’t find water. The first half of this stupid expedition, we couldn’t get away from water. The ocean, then the first river we crossed when I slipped, then the stream, then the raging river. It was like water every two minutes on Route 6. Route 3a is basically a desert. With wolves. Route 3a sucks.”
Nobody discussed the food situation, perhaps because the lack of water was far more serious, or since mentioning food might have revived their insane hunger. They hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. Drayden was so hungry that he actually wasn’t hungry anymore. He was weak, and tired. His feet were numb. The cough, which began as a nuisance, had grown debilitating. He was wheezing, and every breath was labored. Other than leave a vile taste in his mouth, the gummy sap he chewed had done nothing. He couldn’t even rinse it out.
Sidney, scary good at reading his mind and sensing his needs, rolled up beside him. “Hey, how are you feeling? That cough sounds terrible.”
“Thanks for asking.” Drayden coughed into his arm. “It’s nasty. Don’t get too close; I don’t want you to catch it.”
She rubbed his shoulder. “I don’t care. We need you.”
“Thanks, Sid.”
Eugene, who was walking alone up front, hollered back, “I think if we do find water, we should wait a while to boil it. I know everyone’s thirsty. But we risk giving away our location to the Guardians, who will surely try to kill us for real next time. We should focus on getting ahead of them.”
“I think we should boil it as soon as we find it,” Catrice retorted. “We’re on a different road than the Guardians right now, we believe, so we’re far enough away. If we get ahead of them, on Route 3 when the roads join, they might see it.”
Drayden thought she made a valid point, and it was a chance to team up with her against Eugene. “I agree with Catrice.”
She finally noticed Drayden and Sidney walking close together.
“I’m with Euge on this one,” Charlie said. “I think the Guardians’ guns are a bigger risk.”
“What if we check out the next car dealership we see?” Drayden said. “We’ve passed a few. All the cars outside are rusty piles of junk, but the dealerships have an inside section with a few cars inside. They’re protected from rain and stuff.”
“Let’s try the next one,” Eugene said.
Charlie glowed like a kid on the last day of school. “Can I drive?”
“Sure, Charlie,” Drayden said.
“Yes!” He resumed drumming.
Drayden processed the random businesses in Plymouth they passed. Plymouth Antiques Trading Company; Cash for Gold Pawn Shop; Martini’s Bar and Grill; Dominic’s Fine Clothing. Except for the encampments of survivors, nothing he’d discovered on this expedition would be helpful in overthrowing the Bureau. Not only were they failing on their stated goal, he was falling short on his secret one.
He gritted his teeth, pondering what else he should be doing—what Kim would suggest. She would probably say to reach Boston alive and go from there. Hopefully something u
seful would reveal itself. He debated telling the others about the plot to overthrow the Bureau. Sure, Kim had made him swear he wouldn’t tell a soul, yet circumstances had changed. The mission had gone off the rails, plus it was increasingly doubtful they would even make it home. He couldn’t though, not without being sure he could trust Eugene. Despite Charlie’s convincing defense of the guy, he wasn’t ready to fully accept Eugene’s confidence.
“Boom,” Eugene said, hurrying ahead to the left. “There you go, chief. Time to work some magic.”
They approached a spacious lot crammed with ancient cars. Behind it was an enclosed glass room with additional cars inside. In white writing over a blue background, the billboard sign read “Chevrolet.”
Using his silencer, Eugene fired two shots into the lock. The bullets obliterated it and shattered the glass door.
“I’d say it’s pretty open now,” Charlie said.
Eugene entered and the privates followed him inside.
Five cars occupied this glass enclosure. A fine dust coated everything, papers littered the floor, and it smelled wet. One of the hanging lights had crashed to the floor.
“Chev-row-lett,” Charlie sounded it out. “Chev…Chev-ro…Shay-vro—”
“Charlie,” Drayden said. He inspected the cars, figuring they should focus on the biggest one, which was a roomy black vehicle that resembled the vans in the Palace.
The tires were flat, but otherwise, the structure looked intact. Writing on the back, in the lower left corner, read “Tahoe.”
“Guys,” Drayden called out, “I think this is the one we should work on.”
“Nope.” Charlie peeked inside the window of what appeared to be a race car. “If I’m driving, I want this one.” He walked behind the red vehicle and read the name out loud. “Camaro. ZL1.”
Sidney snorted. “Charlie, we wouldn’t all fit. And that car probably isn’t the best for roads that have no road left.”
Charlie released an exaggerated exhale. “Fine.”
Drayden opened the door to the Tahoe, thrilled to find the truck unlocked. He sat in the driver’s seat and touched some of the buttons and dials around the steering wheel. “Where would the key go in?”
Catrice entered through the passenger side door and joined him inside. “Look, there’s a button that says ‘Engine Start/Stop.’ Try pushing that.”
Maybe it didn’t need a key. He pushed the button.
Nothing happened.
She sighed. “I guess you still need a key.”
“Let’s think,” Drayden said. “What do we need for the car to work? We need a key. We need new tires. What else?”
“Gas,” she said. “I don’t think it would last twenty-five years. Does gas evaporate? I don’t know.”
His hopelessness grew. This car thing was a Hail Mary. They might be wasting time. Whatever, it was worth a shot. “Charlie, you look around for keys. Sid, you search for fresh tires. Eugene, you try to find spare gas. Plan?”
“Roger,” Eugene said.
Charlie went to walk away before stopping. “I can drive, right?”
“If we get it running, yes,” Drayden said.
He giggled and bounded away.
Drayden and Catrice sat alone in the car—the first time since they’d left New America that it was just the two of them. Although he’d never felt uncomfortable around Catrice, he did now. They gazed into each other’s eyes. Drayden yearned to ask what happened to her, to them.
“How’s it going?” That was what came out instead, after the prolonged silence.
Idiot.
She grimaced. “I’m scared, Drayden. I’m afraid we’re going to die out here. I don’t want to die. And I’m so thirsty.”
Was it possible she didn’t think anything was wrong with them? It could have been what Eugene had said, that she didn’t even realize she was pulling away. Or, as Sidney insinuated, she was playing games. “I know. I’m scared and thirsty too. But…how are we doing?”
“We’re fine.”
Drayden coughed a few times. “Listen, Eugene’s a great guy; I like him a lot too. I’m just saying, you know…I get it.”
She wrinkled her nose. “What are you talking about?”
Charlie returned with a handful of keys. “Are these them? I found them in one of the offices. They don’t look like keys, but they have some buttons, like this closed lock and this open lock.” He dumped them in Drayden’s lap.
Holding one, Drayden searched for some place to insert it. “Where does it go?”
Catrice reached over and hit the Engine Start/Stop button. Nothing happened.
Eugene and Sidney strolled back together, chatting. Sidney walked up to the driver’s side door. “We struck out. No extra tires, no extra gas.”
It’s over.
“This was a terrible idea, guys,” Drayden said. “I’m sorry. My bad. Let’s go.” He hopped out of the driver’s seat.
“Hey, it was worth a shot, Dray,” Eugene said.
Charlie jumped inside the Camaro. “I’m coming…I had to try this for a sec. My driving career was over before it started.”
The group left the dealership and returned to Route 3a, moving a little slower now.
Their dehydration was growing increasingly serious. Besides having a sticky dry mouth, Drayden was dead tired and headachy. Everyone’s eyes were more sunken, their skin sallow. Thankfully he’d long passed the point of hunger. His stomach felt hollow and acidic instead.
“It’ll be dark soon.” Eugene fanned his arm out. “We should sleep in one of these buildings.”
Charlie stepped off the road. “I don’t know about you guys, but I haven’t peed since yesterday. I wanna try to drain the main vein. Hose down the deck, you know? See a man about a dog. Turn the bike ‘round. Release the—”
“Charlie!” Sidney yelled. “Enough.”
Bikes, Drayden remembered. They needed to find bikes.
Charlie plodded behind a white house that had been a chiropractor’s office, according to the sign, while the rest of the team waited in the street.
“Guys! Dray! Come back here!” Charlie shouted from behind the dwelling.
The privates and Eugene exchanged wary glances.
“Nobody wants to watch you hose down the deck, Charlie!” Drayden yelled.
Eugene cracked up.
“No, it’s not my anaconda! It’s better!”
Even though no one believed him, they marched through the yard and behind the house.
Charlie was waiting at the far side of the short yard. “Look! A creek!”
Drayden whipped out his two bottles. “Nice job, Charlie! Everyone fill up your bottles from the store, but don’t drink it yet.”
“Any fish in there?” Sidney bent down and swished her hand around the water.
“Don’t think so,” Eugene said. He walked over to Charlie and patted him on the back. “Should we thank you, or your anaconda?”
Charlie made a silly face. “There you go, Euge, workin’ a little humor. I dig it.”
A titanic wave of relief washed over Drayden. Major crisis averted. Despite the disagreement over their most urgent problem, he was still convinced it was water. As soon as they boiled it, they could focus on the food crisis and the Guardians.
Although he hadn’t even drunk yet, he felt re-energized. Based on the giddiness of the crew, they felt the same. If they could find bikes, they could beat the Guardians to Boston. A tinge of excitement grew inside him. “Now we need to pick a place to camp, start a fire, boil this water, and we’re back in business.”
Drayden turned to leave and stutter-stepped back. “Don’t move,” he said to the others.
A few of them audibly inhaled.
“Holy shkat,” Charlie said quietly.
They stood face to face with a bear. Apparently,
it had crept up on them amidst their jubilance.
Drayden racked his brain for the information Sam had taught them about bears. This was a black bear. They couldn’t outrun it, or climb a tree to escape it, and they shouldn’t look it in the eye. With black bears, you couldn’t play dead. You could scare them away if you were lucky. He kicked himself once again for not anticipating it, like the wolves around the deer. Clearly they weren’t the only ones who needed water.
A gun cocked. “Dray, step aside,” Eugene said in a monotone voice.
The bear roared, a mere ten feet from Drayden—close enough to maul them in less than a second. After staring them down, it paced back and forth. Its sound fell somewhere between growl and roar, but closer to roar.
It was terrifying. Drayden glanced behind, and Eugene was aiming his Glock at the bear.
Three cubs hopped over from the thick brush, frolicking beside their mother. The bear, now stopped in front of them, roared and stomped her foot.
“We can’t shoot her,” Drayden said. “She has babies. Don’t look her in the eye.” He stared at the ground to his left. “Everyone get closer to me, in a tight bunch. Make yourself big, raise your arms in the air. We’re going to make noise. Get ready. If she charges, stand your ground. Do not turn and run.” This was a mother protecting her cubs, not a predatory assault.
The teens encircled him and lifted their arms.
The bear roared again. She charged a few feet and stopped.
Catrice shrieked.
Sweat trickled down Drayden’s cheek. He closed his eyes.
“Now!” he yelled.
Charlie drummed on the metal bowl, and the others yelled, and sang, and lalalalala’d.
The bear spun and hauled out of there, like a scared bully, her cubs in tow.
Everyone deflated at the same time.
“And this hopefully concludes the wildlife portion of your expedition,” Charlie said.
The group huddled around the fire.
Night had fallen. Charlie and Sidney had gathered loads of wood to make the fire powerful enough to boil water. They’d built it in the parking lot of the Best Western Cold Spring Hotel, still in Plymouth, Massachusetts. While a short distance from the bear encounter, it was roughly forty miles to Boston.