by Lukens, Mark
“I do a shift on the roof. I go on runs with Lance and Dale. I’m a good driver, a decent shot, maybe not quite as good as Lance or Dale, but still pretty good.”
“How often do you guys go on runs?”
Crystal shrugged. “Maybe once every few days. Like Lance said, we’re trying to get some of the supplies before the Dark Angels get everything. At first we were getting a lot of stuff, but it’s getting harder and harder to find stuff we need.”
“It seems like the Dark Angels are everywhere now,” Petra said.
Crystal nodded. “At first the rippers were our main concern. The sound of our trucks drew them. But then we noticed the Dark Angels around. We saw their symbols painted on buildings and on the trucks they drove. We saw the symbol on their soldiers, branded on their foreheads. It’s like they just started moving in so fast, getting so big and strong, so organized. And we don’t know how they did it.”
Petra thought she knew how—the Dragon and the dreams; he seemed to reach out and find the immune. But Crystal didn’t mention the Dragon or the dreams so Petra didn’t say anything about them. Maybe Crystal wasn’t having the same dreams she was, and Max, Kate, and Brooke. Maybe none of them here were having those dreams.
“How do you know so much about the Dark Angels?” Crystal asked.
“We’ve had a few run-ins with them.”
Crystal seemed to be waiting for her to expound on her statement, but she didn’t.
“April’s office is just down here. It used to be Jo’s assistant manager’s office, but we turned it into a doctor’s office. We’ve got a lot of the medical stuff stacked up in there, and stuff from the pharmacy: Zanax, painkillers, stuff that might tempt people. Miss Jo’s office is right over there. Crystal pointed to a door at the end of the hall.
Petra looked at the door to Jo’s office (she wasn’t going to start calling her Miss Jo), then she looked at Crystal. The woman was her height and all lean muscle like she was. She had tattoos on her arms and neck, holes where her nose and ears had been pierced. The blond dye in her short hair was beginning to fade. She seemed tough and capable, probably always was, but maybe even more so now that the world had collapsed.
They stopped outside the door to April’s office. Someone had taped a piece of paper to the door with the words DOCTOR’S OFFICE written on it in black magic marker.
“Next run you go on, I’d like to go with you,” Petra said.
Crystal couldn’t hide her surprise at the request.
Petra didn’t really feel like explaining herself. She wanted . . . needed to get out again. While most might crave the safety of this store, to Petra it felt like a giant cage. It wasn’t that she was truly claustrophobic, but if there was one fear she had, that would be it. But it was more of a restlessness that she’d always had. She felt okay now, but she knew in a few days she would be crawling the walls. She needed to do something, to be outside in the open air. At least this store was huge. That helped. And there was definitely plenty to do here.
“I’ll talk to Lance. It’s usually just us.”
“I’m a good shot. I survived mostly on my own all the way from Maryland. And even when I joined up with Max—”
“It was more like you took care of him than he took care of you,” Crystal finished for her with a knowing smirk.
To be fair, they had taken care of each other. They had each saved the other more than once. But she didn’t say anything.
“You’re sure you want to be back out there again?” Crystal asked. “We don’t get a lot of volunteers to go on runs. None, in fact.”
“Yeah. Jo said we all need to help. That could be my way of helping. And I’ll volunteer for shifts on the roof.”
Crystal smiled again. Petra felt like she was being appraised by Crystal, like she might be seeing her in a new light now.
“Like I said, I’ll talk to Lance about it. But I’ll convince him to take you with us.”
The door swung open and a small, older woman dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt stood in the doorway. Her gray hair was pulled back. She looked older than Petra had expected, maybe in her mid-fifties. She had fine wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, her eyes a blazing blue magnified by her glasses.
“I thought I heard voices out here,” April said. She had a throaty, pack-a-day sound to her voice.
“Doc, this is Petra. Her and her friends just joined us.”
April’s eyes shifted to Petra and widened just a little. “Yeah, I see why she needed to come see me.” She opened the door wider to invite them in.
“You want me to go in there with you?” Crystal asked.
“I think I can handle it,” Petra said. “Thanks.”
Petra entered the office and April closed and locked the door. There were no windows and the office was maybe less than two hundred square feet. One side of the office had a recliner and a small desk and chair shoved into the other corner. The other side of the room was a collection of tables and bookcases (from the furniture department, no doubt) that held boxes and bottles of medical supplies.
April plucked a pair of blue nitrile gloves out of a box on the desk. “Sorry, I was just trying to reorganize everything. Not a lot of room in here as you can see.”
Petra noticed a duffel bag and extra pair of shoes on the floor beside the desk, a radio and battery-powered lantern, a stack of paperback books. “You sleep in here?” she asked.
“Doctor’s perks, I guess. Get my own room. At least when we don’t have a patient in here.” She gestured at the recliner with the long trail of paper pulled down across it—the closest thing they had to an exam table. “We’re still trying to get things organized better. I’ve made a list of items for Lance and Crystal to look for on their next run.”
And me, Petra thought as she sat down on the recliner.
“Go ahead and lean back,” April said as she grabbed a small but powerful flashlight and a magnifying glass. “Rudimentary, I know,” she said with a smile.
Petra liked April’s smile—she liked the “doc” immediately.
After wiping the dried blood off of Petra’s face and neck, April inspected the wound just into the hairline of her head, prodding it a little.
Petra winced.
“Tender?”
“A little.”
“It’s swelling a bit. What happened?”
“Got hit with a rock. Rippers attacked.”
“Well, they got you pretty good. Did you lose consciousness?”
“Yeah.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. A few minutes at least. That’s what Max said.”
“Max is someone you were with?”
“He’s here now. And Kate and Brooke. We all came together. Lance and Crystal picked us up when our truck broke down.”
April nodded. “I just want to shine a light in your eyes for a moment, check to see if your pupils are dilating.”
“Sure.”
April shined the light in Petra’s eyes, moving it away and then back again. “Looks good.” She turned the flashlight off. “You feel dizzy or lightheaded?”
“No.”
“Any muscle weakness? Memory problems?”
“Nope.”
“I think you’ll be okay. I’d like to put a few stitches in the cut and wrap it up. Put some antibacterial cream on it. Okay?”
“Whatever you think is best.”
April went over to the stacks of medical supplies and products, looking for a few things. She grabbed two tubes of cream and a suture kit and came back to Petra. She spread some cream on the cut.
“That’s cold.”
“It will help numb it a little so I can stitch it up.”
Petra remained still while April went to work stitching up the wound. It didn’t take her long, and then she spread the antibacterial cream on the cut. She gently pressed a gauze pad against the wound, and then she wrapped a cloth bandage around Petra’s head to hold the pad in place.
“We’ll just need to
check on it in a few days,” April said. “Make sure it isn’t getting infected. Change the bandages.”
Petra thought she looked like Neal, the one who looked like a weasel and had a bandage wrapped around his head. “You do the same thing for Neal?”
April’s face turned to stone, her body tensing. She shook her head no. “He came in here like that. He won’t let me touch him. I told him his wound could get infected, but he said he’d taken care of it. I can’t force treatment on him.”
Petra wondered if Neal was really wounded, or if his bandage was covering something up that he didn’t want anyone else to see—something like the brand of the Dark Angels.
CHAPTER 39
Kate
Max helped Kate set up a tent for her and Brooke, and then he set up a tent for himself and one for Petra a little farther away, more toward the edge of the tent city.
Once the tents were set up, Max came back with plastic food bowls and a litter box for Tiger. He poured kitty litter into the plastic tub and some food into one of the bowls and water from a bottle into the other bowl. Kate had set the carrying case with Tiger inside at the front of their tent, letting the cat get used to it. He’d been pretty quiet and calm so far, but when he saw Max pouring the food into the plastic bowl he started meowing to be let out.
“We’re going to have to let him out,” Max said.
Kate knew he was right, but she also knew there was a chance Tiger might run off as soon as he got out. He might wander around the store, getting lost.
“Tiger’s going to be scared when we let him out of the carrying case,” Kate told Brooke. “He’s going to want to wander around. You know how he did in the house?”
She nodded. She remembered.
“But this place is a lot bigger than the house. Tiger may be gone for a while. Exploring. I don’t want you to get worried about him, and I don’t want you to go looking for him by yourself. Okay? And definitely no climbing on anything.”
Brooke nodded, and then looked down at the carrying case. Tiger was meowing louder, moving around inside.
“Okay,” Kate said. “Go ahead and let him out. He needs some food and water. Probably has to go to the bathroom.”
After Brooke unlatched the door to the carrying case, Tiger shot out, bolting right to the food bowl, sniffing at it for just a second and then devouring the hard food. After a few minutes of eating, Tiger came right back to Brooke, rubbing against her.
Brooke smiled.
“Okay,” Max said. “I think we’re set up for the night. I need to go check out this indoor plumbing they’ve been raving about. Maybe check on Petra, too.”
“Alright,” Kate said. She watched him walk toward the double doors.
“Cute cat.”
Kate jumped at the sound of the voice, not aware that someone had crept up behind them. She didn’t need to turn around and look because she already knew it was Neal.
He beamed down at them with that strange smile that made him look more sinister than friendly, like he was hiding a secret from everyone. His small dark eyes seemed to dance with excitement just under his dingy white bandage. His face was flushed, and he was sweating just a little even though it was cold in the store.
“What’s his name?” Neal asked.
Brooke wouldn’t answer.
“His name’s Tiger,” Kate said. “Hope you’re not allergic to cats.”
“Naw. But cat allergies are way down the list of worries these days, I’m sure.”
Kate just nodded and turned her attention back to Brooke, hoping Neal would leave. But he didn’t.
“Hey, Kate,” Jeff said from a few tents over.
Kate stood up and looked at him. He stood outside his tent, gesturing her over.
“Come on, Brooke, Jeff wants to talk to us.”
Neal just nodded, letting them pass.
Brooke held Tiger in her arms, the cat purring now that he’d eaten some food and drank some water.
“I’m sorry,” Jeff said when they got to his tent. “I didn’t really have anything to talk to you about. I just figured you needed a break from Neal. He can be . . . overwhelming.”
Kate smiled at him. “Thank you.” She looked over at Neal who had wandered over to Fernando, bugging him. She could hear them talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying from this far away.
“Where are you from?” Jeff asked.
“I grew up in Astorville, but I moved to Raleigh as soon as I was eighteen and got into college.”
“Which one?”
“Duke.”
His eyebrows shot up behind his round glasses. “Wow. What did you study?”
“Anthropology.” She saw the usual blank stare she got when she told people about her profession. “It’s the study of ancient humans.”
He nodded, his expression still a little blank.
“You could say I study cavemen,” she said. “I’m a professor now.” She stopped herself, and then corrected her statement: “I mean I was a professor.”
“Did you like teaching?”
“Yeah. I mean I still did some field work in the summer. Published two books and a few articles. I was even a guest on one of those Discovery TV shows once.”
“That’s impressive.”
Kate shrugged. “Not really. I never made any groundbreaking discoveries.” She was starting to feel a little uncomfortable talking so much about herself.
“You were married?” Jeff asked.
“No. I guess I was too busy with my work. What about you?”
A rustling of the tent behind them grabbed Kate’s attention. She turned and saw Brooke inside the flap of Jeff’s tent, coming back out with a wooden box in her hands like she’d found a treasure in a cave.
Jeff lunged at her, grabbing the wooden box out of her hands. “No,” he snapped at her. “You can’t play with that.”
Brooke’s eyes widened in shock as the music box was snatched out of her hands. She backed away from the tent, staring at Jeff.
Jeff cradled the box in one hand, pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger, swallowing hard, closing his eyes for just a second.
Kate stared at Jeff, then at Brooke. “What were you doing, Brooke? That’s his stuff. You can’t go inside someone else’s tent and take their stuff. Okay?”
Brooke just stared at her.
“I’m sorry,” Jeff said. “It’s okay. Really. This music box, it’s the only thing I have left from my daughter.” He closed his eyes again, almost like he could see his daughter again now that his eyes were closed. “My wife and daughter. They didn’t make it. I saw them getting sick. I thought it would pass. I know it doesn’t sound rational now.” He opened his eyes and looked at Kate—his pale blue eyes were watery. “I tried to convince myself that they were going to get better. I even prayed. I prayed so hard. But nothing happened. I had to get out of the house. They were coming after me. I grabbed a few things on the way to the car. One of the things was this music box.”
“I’m sorry,” Kate said. “I know it must mean a lot to you.” She wondered if she should make Brooke apologize to Jeff. Wouldn’t a mother do that? Kate wasn’t sure. She’d never been a mother. She didn’t know how to be a mother. And it wasn’t like Brooke had been stealing the music box; she’d just been looking at it.
“It’s okay,” Jeff said and looked at Brooke, smiling at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Brooke stared at him like she was wary of him now.
“I just . . . I just never open it,” Jeff said. “I just . . .” He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head like he was having difficulty forming his thoughts into words. “I wish I would have taken other things from our house. Photographs. Other things. But this music box, it’s all I have.”
“I’m sorry about your wife and daughter,” Kate said. “We’ve all lost so much.” She thought about her own parents. Her brother and sister. The letter from her mother in her pocket and how much that meant to her.
&nbs
p; “I really didn’t mean to act like that,” Jeff said, wallowing in shame.
“It’s okay,” she told him. “I understand. Believe me. And I’m sure Brooke—” She turned to look at Brooke, but the girl was gone. She wasn’t by Jeff’s tent anymore. She wasn’t back at their tent. Kate stood up and looked around, then she spotted Brooke in front of Neal’s tent.
What was she doing over there?
Neal was crouched down and seemed to be feeding Tiger something.
It seemed innocent enough, but Kate felt her skin crawling. A sudden anger burned in her and she marched over to them.
Neal looked up at Kate with that creepy smile, his pinched face sweaty, his little dark eyes dancing, the stubble heavy on his cheeks and chin, the dirty bandages wrapped around his head.
“Look who came over to see me,” Neal said.
At first Kate thought he was talking about Brooke, and then she thought he was talking about her, but then she realized he was talking about Tiger.
“Come on, Brooke,” Kate said.
“Tiger got away,” Brooke whispered.
“I know. Just go ahead and get him and we’ll get back to the tent.”
Brooke looked back at Tiger as he nibbled at the food on the floor.
Kate didn’t know how to explain that she didn’t want her around this man.
“The doc got Petra all fixed up,” Max boomed as he and Petra walked up to them, Petra had a bandage wrapped around her head similar to Neal’s—only her bandages were clean.
“Another one of the walking wounded,” Neal said with a grin that seemed too wide for his face.
Petra didn’t return his smile, but she didn’t look away from him. “How did you hurt your head?”
Kate was sure Petra had meant her question to come out as a curious inquiry, but it sounded more like some kind of accusation.
The smile on Neal’s face finally faltered a bit. “I . . . I fell.”
“You fell.” Petra sounded as accusatory as ever.
“Yeah. I was running from some rippers and I fell. Hit my head on the ground.”
“Where’d you hurt your head?”
It seemed like it took Neal a moment to think about his answer. “My . . . my forehead. Why?”