“Yeah, I figured,” she said to his retreating back.
She let out a long sigh and threw herself back on the bed to stare up at the ceiling. Tiny cracks in the plaster tiles spread out like intricate spider webs and she wondered if the same thing was going to happen to them. Did it all begin with a tiny crack in one tile that grew and caused the neighbouring tiles to crack until all of them were broken?
God, she hoped not. She’d seen the faces of everyone on the roof as they discussed the run. They were spent and desperate. The cracks were starting, just tiny fissures for now, but if they didn’t succeed today, they were going to widen.
And now they were involving Audrey in all of it. It wasn’t just the idea of her out there that worried Veronica. She didn’t want Audrey to feel the responsibility of providing for the group or the possible sense of failure that came if they were forced to return to camp empty handed.
The sound of laughter from the children drifted in the open window and a ghost of a smile formed on her lips. The kids had no idea the dire straits they were in and were able to just be kids. They were still able to laugh freely without any tinge of bitterness. She wanted Audrey to keep that, just for a bit longer.
But she knew it wasn’t meant to be and wallowing about it wasn’t going to change anything. She pushed herself up on the bed to grab her pack and pulled out a fresh pair of socks.
No, the only way to change anything was to get back out there and find food for them.
She didn’t care if she had to break into every single house and building they saw, she wasn’t coming back until they had enough to get them back on the road. Audrey wasn’t going to feel like a failure because Veronica was going to make sure their group succeeded.
They were survivors and she was going to make sure Audrey was one too.
Subject File # 742
Subject: I think if we had stayed on the road much longer, we would have lost everything that made us human. Hell, we were right on the edge of it after Fairview.
Administrator: And what pulled you back?
Subject: Alan.
The town of Franklin, Ohio had once been a prominent part of the Rust Belt, booming during the height of steel and iron manufacturing. The skeleton of the old furnace had been unmistakable on the edge of the town, though the shattered windows and sagging roof told the story of its decline over the years. Judging by the number of homes they passed that had been boarded up years ago, the town had been dying long before the end of the world hit.
They had probably once been homes to the mill workers who had found themselves with no jobs when the recession had hit a decade back. A lack of new jobs and the collapse of the housing market had put them into foreclosure and they had been forced to move on to greener pastures.
The state of the town was not exactly the positive sign Malcolm had been hoping for but he knew that beggars couldn’t be choosers. The sign welcoming them to Franklin had boasted that there was still a population of 8,235 which meant it was big enough to have stores to supply the population. It also meant that they were likely to find themselves faced with freaks or other survivors.
Both groups had Malcolm worried but he knew it was a risk they had to take. This was the only place within a reasonable walking distance of the motel. It had already paid off when they had found several cars along the road into town that had gas in their tanks. They already had two jerry cans filled up and he felt good about the plan.
Several houses appeared on either side of the street as they entered Franklin proper and Malcolm called the group to a stop.
When they had first left Fairview, they’d been hesitant to start breaking into people’s homes to find food. Malcolm knew why they were hesitant. It was one thing to break into a store to take what they needed but it felt like a violation to take from someone’s home. Hunger, however, was a good motivator and they had quickly gotten over their aversion.
“Let’s go knocking,” Malcolm said and led the way up to the first house, nodding at Quinton and Trey as they ran ahead to disappear behind the house to cover the back door. Malcolm climbed up to the porch, moving to one side of the door while Kim went to the other side, Alan next to her.
Malcolm pounded a fist on the door. “We aren’t looking for trouble. If anyone is in there, say yes and we’ll move on.”
They waited, listening intently for any answer from inside but all that they could hear was the chirping of the birds in the trees. He reached out and tested the doorknob, saying a prayer of thanks for the trusting nature of small towns when it turned easily.
He pushed the door open and waited, pressed up against the side of the house in case any shots came through the open door. It stayed quiet and he took the chance to move into the doorway, his gun out as he assessed the place for any threat.
Stale air hit his nose, telling him that the place had been shut up a while, but he was still cautious as he entered the home. The door opened into the main room of the house, a couch and well-worn recliner facing a flatscreen mounted over a fire place. An archway led from the main room into a dining room and he could spot an oven through an open door from the dining room to the kitchen.
A staircase to the left of the front door led up to the second floor and Malcolm climbed it, searching for anyone who might be hiding. He did a sweep of the upstairs hallway, while Kim followed behind him up the stairs. Three doors lined the hallway and Malcolm headed down the hall to the farthest one, glancing back to wait for Kim to approach the one closest to the top of the stairs.
When she had her hand on the doorknob, he nodded and they both opened the doors at the same time. Malcolm found a bedroom decorated in floral patterns, the bed still unmade from the last time the owner’s had slept there. Drawers of the dresser were half open, clothes hanging out and there was a trail of clothing still on their hangers from the closet to the bed. Whoever had lived here had packed in a hurry.
“Clear!” Malcolm called out and he heard Kim echo him from the other room. He walked out into the hallway to join her.
“Bedroom,” she said, nodding back at the room she had been in.
“Mine too,” Malcolm said, looking at the last door in the hallway. “Bathroom probably.”
She nodded for him to go ahead and he opened the door to find he was right. He pulled back the shower curtain to check the tub, unsurprised to find it empty. He checked the medicine cabinet above the sink and found it full of the normal things, none of it useful.
“Clear down here!”
Quinton’s call had the two of them heading back downstairs to join the others in the kitchen. They were already hard at work rooting through the cupboards and Malcolm smiled when he saw them pulling out boxes and cans.
“It’s not a lot,” Quinton said, “But it’s something.”
“And if the other houses are like this, we might be okay,” Trey said with a grin.
Malcolm was glad to see them excited and he didn’t want to lose the momentum. “Alright, let’s clear out what we can use and get over to the other houses.”
They made quick work of searching the empty houses along the street and by the time they were done, they had enough cans and boxes of food to keep the group going for at least another day. They’d also found several cars in garages and driveways with gas to siphon. They’d even lucked out when they came across a truck in one of the garages that had a full tank of gas and keys sitting on the dash.
They’d debated bringing the truck into town but Malcolm had erred on the side of caution. They made less noise on foot and it would be easier to take cover. So they had loaded up what they’d found so far in the truck and left it locked in the garage, ready for them to drive back to the motel when they were done here.
Their spirits were high as they made their way to the centre of town but the group grew more cautious as they spotted the police barricades lying across the street. A police car was up a ways, parked diagonally across the road, driver’s side door wide open. Dried blood was smeared over
the sheriff’s shield painted on the door and as they closed in on the car, Malcolm spotted the slumped figure in the driver’s seat. He waved the others back as he approached the vehicle, eyes on the figure for movement but then the wind shifted and the stench of death hit him.
The man in the seat was wearing a police uniform stained with dried blood from where his throat had been torn out. Malcolm kicked the door closed, cutting off some of the smell and looked back to the others.
“Keep an eye out for freaks,” he said. It was likely, due to the state of decomposition of the body, that the freaks had moved on to more lively pastures but he still wanted everyone on their toes. “Alan, there’s half a tank. Empty what you can.”
Alan nodded and went to the back of the car to siphon the gas into the jerry cans they had brought. Quinton stayed with him as Malcolm led Kim and Trey farther up the street. That’s when they spotted the bodies on the street and sidewalk.
Dried blood was spattered across the sidewalk and the street, drag marks spearing out from large blood pools showing where freaks had hauled their kills away. Still, they had left behind enough dead to tell a story of what had happened here.
The stores that lined the street had smashed windows and kicked in doors and when Malcolm went to the pharmacy to look inside, he could see that the shelves had been cleared out but half of the stuff was strewn all over the floor. It had been pandemonium in here and Malcolm could guess how it had all gone down.
Despite the small town’s attempt at keeping things together with police presence, things had gone south. Maybe the looting started first or maybe the freaks started killing first, either way, Franklin had gone down in a blaze of death and destruction.
Now they were here to make a life out of picking through what the dead had left behind.
“Come on, let’s check out what got left behind here,” Malcolm said to Kim and Trey, nodding towards the shattered window of the pharmacy.
He signalled to Quinton that they were going inside and climbed through the window, careful to avoid the shards of glass still in the frame. They had their makeshift masks to prevent the infection from entering through their mouths but an open wound was a whole other story. It was practically inviting the infection right in.
The interior of the pharmacy was dim and he walked around the cashier’s counter to the front of the aisles that stretched to the back where the pharmacist’s counter was located. Without saying a word, Kim and Trey split off from him, each moving to a different aisle so they could sweep the place.
“You two check the shelves for anything useful,” Malcolm ordered when they reached the end of the aisles and nothing had moved. “I’ll check the back.”
He went to the pharmacist’s counter and immediately noticed that the glass fronted cabinet behind it had been smashed open and cleared out. If he was a betting man, he would say it had housed the powerful narcotics and had been one of the first places the looters had hit. Not that he was concerned about the medication behind the counter.
Their medical supplies from the vet clinic had been in the back of the SUV with Lorraine and Craig and they were still well stocked. No, he wanted to make sure there weren’t any freaks lurking back here.
He stepped up behind the counter and headed towards the door that bore a sign that said Storeroom. He grabbed the doorknob but it was locked. Well, at least that meant if there was anything in there, it couldn’t get out.
“We’re clear,” Malcolm called out. “You find anything useful?”
“A couple cans of soup and a box of baby cookies,” Kim called out from the second aisle. “You got to look under the shelves. A lot of stuff rolled under them when this place was ransacked.”
“I got a bunch of bottles of multivitamins,” Trey said. “Not food but they can’t hurt.”
Several gunshots split the air and Malcolm shot over the counter, bounding up the aisle to the front windows. He spotted Quinton and Alan running towards the store. Malcolm grabbed the jerry cans out of Quinton’s hands so he could pull himself up through the window, Alan hot on his heels.
“Was that you?” Malcolm asked but the men shook their heads.
“Sounded like it came from the block east of us,” Alan said, leaning back out the window. “Shit!”
Alan jumped away from the window, pushing at Quinton and Malcolm to fall back. A moment later Malcolm heard the footsteps just before five people in military fatigues ran by the window.
Malcolm was about to take a step forward to see where they had gone but then he heard more footsteps and he ducked down with the others as a large group of freaks ran by the window. They were intent on their prey and didn’t give a second glance at the pharmacy.
“What do we do?” Alan asked.
“We should go help them,” Trey said, stepping up towards the window but Kim reached out to stop him, her eyes on Malcolm.
Before he could say anything, Quinton spoke.
“We can’t risk helping them. Who knows how many more freaks are out there? I saw two cars parked down the road. I say we take what’s in those tanks while the freaks are distracted and get the hell out of here.”
It was a sound plan really. They had people waiting on them. They had to worry about getting back to them, not helping others that could very well be competent enough to handle it themselves.
“After Fort Lee, can we even trust the military?” Kim asked. “They could gun us all down after we help them.”
“It’s been nearly a month since then,” Alan pointed out. “Odds are they aren’t under anybody’s command now. They’re just trying to survive like the rest of us.”
“Yeah, and every group out there trying to survive has fucked us over royally,” Quinton said. “What if we all die trying to help these people? What happens to the rest of the group waiting back at the motel?”
Trey shook his head, a look of disgust on his face. “You know, I expected that kind of cowardice from Alan but not you.”
Malcolm saw the hurt that flashed on Alan’s face and he opened his mouth, ready to put the argument to an end but Alan spoke first.
“Trey’s right. Let’s go help them,” Alan said and headed to the window without a second glance to see if they were following him.
Quinton let out an exasperated sound and looked to Malcolm as if he expected him to stop Alan. Malcolm just shrugged his shoulders and moved to the window.
“If we stop doing the right thing, what’s the point?” he said and climbed out onto the sidewalk. Trey and Kim were right behind him and Quinton reluctantly followed at the rear. Alan was already half way up the block where a side street bisected the main road, spying around the corner.
“They went up there,” Alan said. “There’s a construction site half way down the block and the freaks followed them in there. Let’s go.”
Alan took off running and Malcolm picked up the pace to follow him. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised about Alan’s turnaround. He had told Malcolm that he was looking for redemption for his past mistakes and it appeared that he was going to make good on that promise.
Subject File # 750
Subject: It’s funny, I spent years teaching teenagers. I got to know them and understand how their brains work but I always find myself underestimating Audrey.
Administrator: And why do you think that is?
Subject: Probably because I don’t want to accept that she’s been forced to grow up after everything that’s happened. Delusional, I know, but I want her to still have some childhood left to live.
Sweat trickled down Veronica’s spine and she groaned, pulling her damp shirt away from her skin and shaking the fabric to try and cool down her body. The sun was unforgiving as it beat down on the railroad tracks that they were following. There was nothing to shade them as they walked along, any trees cut back a long time ago when people were still maintaining the railroad.
Claudia had been smart enough to bring along a floppy brimmed hat she had found at the motel. It kept the sun of
f her face and Veronica was jealous, feeling the sunscreen she had slathered over her sensitive skin melting off with her sweat. She knew by the end of the day her nose would be a nice pink over the freckles. Being a redhead sucked sometimes.
Despite the weather, Audrey hadn’t uttered a complaint and Veronica was impressed. The girl walked a couple paces ahead of them, her ponytail that she had pulled through the back of her baseball cap bouncing with every step. Truth be told, the girl seemed to actually be having fun out here.
“So what happens after we get to the island?” Audrey asked.
“What do you mean?” Veronica asked.
“Well, what exactly are we going to do there?”
That was a good question. She hadn’t really thought about it. The island was the goal and everything inside her had been focused on making it there. She hadn’t considered what happened after.
“Place is supposed to be run by the CIA,” Jackson said from his spot behind them. “I reckon they’ll tell us what we’re supposed to do.”
“What if there’s nothing there?” Audrey asked.
“I don’t think Malcolm’s lying to us,” Claudia said.
“No, not lying. I just mean what if nobody else is there. Or what if they got there but they died.” She looked back at Jackson. “They told people to go to the stadium in Hayden and look what happened there.”
“Sounds like this place is different,” Jackson said. “Hayden, that place was only temporary. The island’s supposed to be permanent.”
“Do you think I’ll have to go to school there?” she asked.
“Well if there isn’t a school there, I can start one,” Veronica said and Audrey groaned.
“Never should have said anything.”
“Come on, school isn’t so bad,” Claudia said. “Plus, there are still things you need to learn.”
Audrey gave her a skeptical look and then glanced back at Jackson.
“Jackson, did you like school?” she asked.
Sanctuary Page 19