He laughs again. "Could be. Or, you could call me the one who's gonna outlive all of y'all."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Daniel asks.
The man points at each of us, and says, "Look at y'all. Out here dressed like you were expecting a day at the gym. Well, except for you," he adds, nodding at Wayne. "At least you look like you know what you're doing."
Wayne doesn't respond.
"What's wrong with our clothes?" I ask, offended.
"For starters, you're wearing sweatpants and it's 97 degrees outside. On a cool day. And two of you are wearing jeans."
"These are jeggings, not jeans," Meredith corrects him.
He puts a hand over his chest, feigning remorse. "Well, forgive me Ma'am. I didn't mean to falsely label your burial suit. Continuing on.....you're all in running shoes that I doubt are waterproof. And the only weapons you have are the ones hanging off your backpacks." He moves toward me, until he's standing uncomfortably close. "Except for the gun in your waistband, and the pistol your friend was reaching for earlier," he adds.
"How do you know I have a gun?"
"You've had a gun this whole time?" Meredith asks.
I don't take my eyes off the man in front of me. He smiles. "Trade secret."
"Well, if you're done making fun of us, either let us go or offer us a place to stay," I say.
He laughs. "And what makes you think I've got a place you can stay?"
"Wayne found your trailer. He said there's usually supplies and weapons in places like that," I say, pointing at the dilapidated trailer.
He looks at Wayne. "That right?"
Again, Wayne doesn't respond.
He looks back at me. "Where were y'all headed when you stumbled on my property?" he asks.
"We were..."
"Wasn't asking you, friend," the man interrupts Daniel. He doesn't take his eyes off me. "Where were you headed?" he asks again.
I raise my chin, and say, "Asheville," with all the defiance I can muster.
He laughs. "You'll never make it."
"And why not?" I ask.
"Gonna start getting cold soon. Terrain's gonna get rougher." He shakes his head. "Nah, that's a spring trip, right there."
"Our parents are there."
"No, they used to be there," he says. "Now they're either dead or walking."
I'm angry all over again. "What makes you say that? You don't know them. You don't know anything about them!"
He shrugs. "Did you hear from them right after? We had cell phones for a good week after it all started."
"Yes, once. But we got cut off."
"Did they call back?"
I shake my head and bite my lip to keep the tears from spilling down my face. I won't let him see me cry.
"Well, there you go. You're on a fool's errand," he says bluntly.
"Maybe they couldn't call back. That doesn't mean they're dead."
"It doesn't mean they're sitting at home, waiting for their little girl to come rescue them, either."
"We don't think they're at home," I argue. "We believe they went to the shelter. I heard people in the background when I was talking to Mom."
"And what are you gonna do? Prance through a city filled with dead things till you find the shelter? Walk up and ring the doorbell?" He spits a stream of tobacco juice at my feet. "You think they'll let you in? Risk exposing themselves so you can find Mommy and Daddy?"
"Well, what would you suggest we do?"
He thinks for a minute. Finally he says, "Well, I suppose you could stay here for a bit. I'll teach you how to really live off the grid. Then you can be on your way come spring."
"And why would you do that?" I ask, immediately suspicious at his change of heart.
He shrugs. "Nothing else to do out here in the woods. I've been getting pretty bored. Might as well help my fellow man."
I can't help but smile, relieved. This is the first break we've caught in a while.
"Deal," I say.
Daniel and Wayne don't look happy about the arrangement, but I don't care. All I care about is having a semi-permanent shelter...and finally learning how to really survive in this new world of ours.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chloe
"Wake up, Princess."
I force my eyes open.
It takes me a minute to figure out where I'm at. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and look around.
Oh, right. The trailer in the woods.
The interior of the trailer has been gutted to form one large, vacuous room. Bare places in the dirty carpet reveal spots where walls used to be. There's a threadbare sofa just in front of me; a dirty kitchen and lopsided table to my left; and, three empty sleeping bags on the floor to my right. There's a door, partially open, at the far end of the room, and I can just make out the outline of an old toilet in the shadows.
A large foot kicks my bag again. "Hey. You gonna get up, or are you just plannin' on sleepin' all day?"
I swat at the foot and sit up. "Stop! What's your problem?"
He squats down so that we're eye to eye. The scent of toothpaste and aftershave reach my nostrils, and I immediately feel self-conscious because I can’t remember how many days it’s been since I’ve brushed my teeth or bathed. Without the sunglasses, I can see his face more clearly. Long eyelashes frame his gunmetal grey eyes; fine lines at the edges tell a story of countless hours spent in the sun...somehow I doubt they’re from smiling too much.
My heart flutters.
He smirks. "You can sleep when you're dead, Princess. You start training today. Now get up...this ain't a bed and breakfast."
I roll my eyes. "No kidding. I definitely don't smell any bacon and eggs this morning. And this bed is crap," I say, looking down at the sleeping bag.
He stands. "You got spirit, I'll give you that. That'll help you during your training."
"Yeah, yeah. You keep saying that. Training for what?"
"How to properly survive."
"I have been surviving."
He laughs. "No...you've been getting lucky. Surviving is different."
I roll my eyes again and crawl out of the sleeping bag. Stretching, I look around the small room again. There's no bed in the trailer. "Where do you sleep? I don't see a bed."
"I don't sleep here."
"I thought you said this was your house."
"No, I said this was my property. And it is. I don't take anyone to my house. Especially people I don't know."
"Why? We won't hurt you. Or steal from you."
"How do I know that? You threatened to come back from the dead and eat me yesterday."
"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Good point."
"Come on. We're going for a walk," he says, then heads toward the door.
I put my shoes on and follow him outside. Daniel, Meredith and Wayne are already outside, waiting for me. Daniel doesn't look any happier this morning than he did yesterday. Wayne looks indifferent, like he's used to running into strange characters in the middle of the woods. Meredith looks worried.
"Where are we going?" I ask the man.
"Out for supplies," he answers. "But first, we need some introductions so I'm not saying 'hey, you' all day long. I'm Erek."
"Wayne."
"Meredith."
"Chloe," I answer. "And this is my brother, Daniel," I say, pointing at Daniel.
Daniel rolls his eyes. "I'm capable of introducing myself."
"Yeah, when you're not sulking."
"I'm not sulking!"
Erek clears his throat. "I don't mean to interrupt this little family spat...adorable as it is...but I don't care who's pouting, or why. We gotta move. Let's go."
I start walking, curious to see where this training is going to take place. And where these supplies are. Meredith falls in step beside me, and Daniel behind her. Wayne brings up the rear, always ready, should any monsters pop out from behind a tree.
* * *
Daniel
I shouldn't have said what I said to Meredith. I'm mad at mys
elf for being so careless with her feelings. I've never been good at dealing with heavy emotions; I just get angry and blame everyone else for my lack of coping skills. Admitting this makes me feel worse. Instead of bringing her closer, I only managed to push her further away.
I'm not even mad at Meredith.
If anything, I'm hurt.
But, my temper-tantrum earlier caused the chasm between us to grow even wider. She won't look at me, and she's made a point to walk with Chloe and Erek all morning, effectively shutting me out. Wayne falls in place beside me and lights a cigarette. He offers me one, like he always does, and like always, I decline.
After a few more minutes of silence, he says, "I found a stray once. She was this big, beautiful German Shepherd," he says, using his hands to demonstrate how large the dog was. "She had been hit by a hunter durin’ bow season. Arrow was still stickin’ out of her leg."
He takes a drag of the cigarette.
"Were you the one who shot her?" I ask.
He looks at me. "When I shoot, I don't miss. Nah, I found her while I was blood trailin’ a deer I hit earlier in the day." He shakes his head, remembering. "I still don't know how she came to be in that part of the woods. Or who she belonged to."
"Did you help her?" I ask just for the sake of asking. I'm not sure what the point of this story is.
"Tried to. She nearly tore my hand off when I reached down to touch her. Still have the scars," he says, showing me his right hand. Three jagged scars run from his fingers to his wrist.
"What did you do?"
"I left her. Went home....Bruce stitched up the hand for me."
I raise an eyebrow, surprised he mentioned Bruce's name. "Was that sanitary?" I ask.
He shrugs. "Prob'ly not. But when you don't have insurance, you learn how to make do."
"How did you keep it from getting infected?"
"Homemade liquor and rubbin’ alcohol."
"Oh. Nice."
"Anyway, I went back the next day, and there she was, still in the same spot, nursin’ her wounded leg. I took out the water and food I brought with me, and laid it down in front of her. She took one bite, then another. Pretty soon, it was all gone."
"Then did you try to get the arrow out?"
"Nah, then I went home."
"And just left her there again?"
He nods. "Did the same thing the next day, and the next too. But each day, she let me get a little closer, until finally she let me touch her head without tryin’ to rip my hand to shreds. The next day, I fed her meat soaked in white liquor. Once she settled down a bit, I picked her up and put her on the four-wheeler. Took her back to the house."
"Were you able to get the arrow out?"
He ashes the cigarette and squints into the sunlight. "Yeah, Bruce and I pulled it through. Then we stitched her up."
"And she was fine after that?"
He shakes his head. "Nah. Infection set in. We had to put her down."
"How?"
"How do you think?"
I go quiet for a minute, thinking. Finally, I say, "You should have just left her in the woods. You went through all that for nothing."
"That's why you're gonna lose the girl," he says quietly.
I raise an eyebrow. "Come again."
"Sometimes you try to save something, and you get hurt. Sucks, but it happens. Sometimes you try to save something, and it ends up not being good enough....you lose 'em anyway. That sucks, too. But sometimes you succeed." He stubs the cigarette out on the heel of his boot, then flicks the filter into the woods. "Maybe I could have saved myself some trouble by leavin’ that dog to suffer alone in the woods, but I would've always wondered." He shrugs. "Yeah, it didn't work out like I wanted, but if I had left her, I know how it would have ended."
I begin to understand what he's trying to tell me. Meredith has baggage....some serious baggage...but if I give up now, I'll never know the real person hiding behind all the lies and deception.
"You know, I think that's the most you've said the entire time I've known you," I say.
"Stranger things’ve happened, I guess."
I smile. "Thanks, man. I think I understand what you're trying to say.....and you're right. So, thank you."
He just shrugs and drops behind, going back to covering the rear as we follow Erek further into the woods.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chloe
As it turns out, our first training stop is a small military surplus store.
We walked for an hour, going deeper and deeper into the woods. I started to think Erek was leading us off somewhere to kill us, because we seemed to be going further away from civilization, not toward it. Finally, we climbed a steep embankment, and came out on a paved road....if you can call it paved with all the craters it had.
"Where are we?" Daniel asked.
"Less talking, more walking," was the only response from Erek.
After another thirty minutes, we come across a small forgotten community that looks like it started falling apart before the world ended, most likely after the highway was carved into the mountain. I bet it was a cute little town before it dried up; now it's just a small post office, a ramshackled diner, what looks like a tiny farmer's market, and the military surplus store.
I'm standing in front of the store now, wondering what Erek hopes to accomplish here.
He pushes the door open and waits. Once he determines nothing unexpected is lurking inside, he looks at us and says, "Ladies first."
I don't move.
"Go on in. We ain't got all day," he barks.
I look past him into the darkness. "But it's dark in there. We need a flashlight," I say.
"No, you don't. Your eyes will adjust to the low light once you're inside."
"But..."
"No buts," he says, holding up his hand. "First lesson. You don't burn flashlights during the day. It wastes the batteries, and you don't really need them."
"Well, what if I get hurt because I can't see where I'm walking?"
He rolls his eyes. "You won't. Follow me."
Meredith and I look at each other, then follow Erek inside the store. I stand still for a full minute, giving my eyes time to adjust to the dark interior. Finally, I'm able to make out little details here and there. After two minutes, I can see much better than I thought I’d be able to. I walk toward a section of the store marked WOMEN'S on a worn out piece of cardboard. Erek is already there, waiting.
"What size are you, Princess?"
I look at Meredith then back at him. My cheeks burn. "That's a personal question."
He looks like he wants to slap me. "Listen lady, no one here cares about how thin you are. What size?"
I don't know why I get so embarrassed about my size, but I've always felt self-conscious about being petite. Kids at school used to tease me about it, and those scars didn't magically disappear when I became an adult. I force a "one" through gritted teeth, hating Erek for making me say it out loud.
"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
He has no idea how hard it was.
He spends a few minutes searching through the racks, then hands me several articles of clothing. "Go put these on," he orders. "What about you?" he asks Meredith.
"Seven," she answers.
He hands her similar items, in a larger size. We both walk to the back of the store to the battered dressing rooms. I put on my new clothes. Surprisingly, they fit great, and even though they're not the style I normally go for, they're the first brand new clothes I've put on in almost three months, so I feel like a supermodel.
I study my reflection in the dressing room mirror. It's dark, but I can make out my reflection. Sort of. I'm dressed in grey military cargo pants, and black fitted tank top under a button-up shirt. I exit the small room to find Meredith dressed in a similar outfit, but her shirt is green whereas mine is blue. It's like he chose the colors that complimented our eyes and skin tones. I can't help but laugh.
"What?" Meredith asks, a smile on her lips.
I shake my head. "I was just thinking Erek would make a good stylist if the whole survivalist gig doesn't work out for him."
We both laugh, then walk to the front of the store.
"Took y'all long enough," Erek says as we walk up.
Daniel and Wayne are already dressed in their new threads. They're wearing clothes similar to what we were given, except they opted for t-shirts instead of button-ups. Wayne added a leather vest to his ensemble.
"All right, shoes next. What size? Or, are you gonna be weird about that, too?" Erek asks me.
I roll my eyes. "Six."
"Eight," Meredith answers.
We follow him to the SHOE section, where he makes quick work of finding us each a pair of combat boots. "These," he says, holding up a pair of black boots, "are waterproof. Once you get used to wearing them, you'll never miss those tennis shoes of yours."
I take them from his hand and slip them over the new polypropylene moisture wicking socks he gave us moments ago. Already my feet feel better. Maybe my days of killer blisters and damp feet are behind me.
Once we finish lacing our boots, we walk to the front counter.
"Are we gonna pay now?" I ask with a smile.
"Don't be cute."
I shrug. Erek walks behind the counter and starts pulling utility belts and tactical holsters from beneath the counter. Now we're outfitted to hold one handgun each, and an assortment of knives.
"Where will we find weapons?" I ask.
"Let me worry about that," he says, then exits the store.
* * *
Daniel
I catch Meredith's arm as everyone else exits the store. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"I don't think that's a good idea, Daniel."
I hold my hands up. "No, listen. I only want to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did the other night. I was hurt, and I lashed out, and I'm so sorry. If I could take it back, I would, but...."
"Daniel," she says, cutting me off, "it's fine. You're forgiven." She smiles, and sticks her hand out. "Truce? Again."
I take her hand. "Can I still ask my one question a day?"
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