by Lisa Acerbo
“We have to help him,” Jenna pleaded.
“We don’t know anything about his condition,” Gus said. “Even with all the medicine in the world, he might not make it. We should leave it in God’s hands rather than risk more people. Steakers are close. We don’t know how many, but they are obviously around.”
Jenna wouldn’t relent. “We have to try. There are pharmacies in every town. The medicine we need can’t be far away. What about going back to Pittsfield? There must be medicine at both the grocery store and the drug store on the main street.”
“It’s a long trip demanding supplies and manpower,” Peter reasoned.
“Or womanpower.” Jenna scowled. “You’re worried about supplies? It will be worth it.”
“For the humans,” Aiko interjected.
Jenna ignored the comment. “You heard Emma say we were low. A scouting group would be going out soon enough. This turns it into a priority. I’m sure the medicine we need is out there. Every store in the city cannot have been ransacked.”
“You know what’s there?” George answered his own question with a cruel smile. “A shitload of Streakers waiting for any dumbass to set foot in that reeking hell again.”
“We’re worried about you coming back too, not just supplies.” Peter placated.
“Antibiotics? Really?” Aiko’s words cut through the air like a sword. “Are we trying to rescue the same person? Never mind all the Streakers running around in the stupid town almost got us all killed, but antibiotics and aspirin aren’t a guarantee he’ll get better. Even with medicine, he’s probably going to die, especially if you run into trouble or delay even a couple of days. If you even make it back.”
Small conversation erupted throughout the group, but Jenna didn’t like the dribs and drabs of words she heard. Most of the New Race and humans agreed with Aiko, even if they did not condone her harsh presentation of the facts.
“We can’t risk sacrificing a bunch of people to save one,” George said.
Jenna had an overwhelming desire to gut punch him to shut him up.
The pock-faced man continued. “We don’t know what will happen to Quentin when he gets the medicine. We could lose everyone we send back into Pittsfield. Going into the city once was more than enough.”
“Not to be rude George, but I’m with Jenna,” Billy said softly from the other couch. He jutted out his chin, attempting to look more mature, but instead, looking every ounce the young and rebellious teen. “Quentin is family. You do everything you can to save family.”
“You’re too young to vote on this.” George sneered. “You must realize if it was anyone else, Jenna would be voting with the majority. It’s the fact Quentin’s her boyfriend.”
“That has nothing to do with this. I would save anyone in this room,” Jenna charged. “Except maybe you.”
George shot out of his chair and lunged. “You little bitch. I should knock you a good one and show you what happens when . . .”
Caleb and John each grabbed one of George’s arms, hauled him back to his chair, and dropped him into it. They didn’t move away. Instead, both men hovered, standing guard.
Emma pulled Jenna back to the couch.
“This is getting us nowhere.” Peter swiped a stray strand of hair away from his forehead. He should have been eating at an Italian restaurant directing stooges who to put the hurt on. Instead, he organized the vote. “At this point, let’s find out what people want. We’ll do it by ballot, so no one’s uncomfortable about how they are voting. Billy, you get a vote too.”
Gus nodded in agreement, and Peter and Aiko went to find paper and pens. Jenna, full of restless energy, paced alone in the corner of the room. She was thankful when nobody tried to change her mind or console her. If they had, the tears would have arrived.
Each person received a piece of paper and a pen and furious scribbling began.
She wrote Save Quentin.
The collected and sorted ballots formed two piles with one larger than the second. Peter gathered all the paper fragments, read them, and addressed the group.
“We did this the fair and democratic way. After I tell everyone the decision, there’s no more discussion on the matter. By a two-third majority, the group will not go to Pittsfield to find antibiotics. I’m sorry, Jenna.”
She sank to the floor and covered her face with her hands.
She’d end in tears if she saw their looks of pity or worse, they betrayal of the people she trusted the most.
“He might come through. Stranger things have happened,” Emma sat next to her and rubbed her back.
“He might also die a slow and painful death.” Jenna opened her eyes, letting the tears come.
This is angry crying. Quentin will not die as long as I live.
“You can’t believe what you just said. You don’t know God’s plan.”
“God? God’s plan? Emma don’t start. There’s no plan. There’s only Streakers and one chomped on Quentin. Now he’s dying. His death will be on your hands and everyone here because they are cowards.”
“I’m not a coward,” Caleb said, joining them in the corner. “I voted to find the medicine. If it means so much to you, we can still do it.”
“What?” Emma narrowed her eyes. “There’s no way you two are going to Pittsfield alone. We won’t let you.”
Caleb smiled. “As far as I’m aware, I am a legal adult who will do anything I want, whether that be leaving or never coming back. If I want to go to Pittsfield and get antibiotics, I’ll damn well do it, or anything else, I please. Do you have a problem?”
Jenna wiped away the tears.
He’d never appeared so handsome. And he’d been damn hot before.
Emma shrunk back. “No problem but stop being pigheaded. I love you two. You’re family. I don’t want to see you get hurt or worse.”
“I’ll care for this one. I always do,” Caleb said.
“You’d really follow me to Pittsfield for the drugs?”
“If you’re up for it.”
“Can’t freaking wait.” She stood and pulled him into a hearty hug without an ounce of embarrassment.
“We leave tonight,” Caleb said. “Get packed.”
16
Darkness rested comfortably by the time Caleb and Jenna settled in the vehicle.
Emma peered at her through the open driver’s side window.
“Thank everyone for offering the use of the car.” Jenna’s fingers combed through her ponytail, which reached her waist. “We are off to save Quentin. It’s a mission like none other and one we promise to return from.”
“I have misgivings.” Emma placed a hand on the car window frame. “Obviously, the whole group does, or the vote would have been different. But we can’t stop you. Can we?”
A brief smile reached her lips. “My mind is made up. Sorry. I have my sidekick for safety.”
Caleb tugged on the sleeve of her camouflage jacket. “You’re the sidekick.”
“You want to fight about it?”
“We might have to.”
Emma stepped back. “I see you two have this under control. Come back safe.” She blew them both a kiss before heading back into the inn.
The car purred to life. He navigated the winding driveway in the dark with ease, the only noise coming from the engine and the crunch of the tires on the gravel.
Jenna hugged herself.
This coat better still be a good luck charm. Haven’t needed to wear it much of late, she thought, but it kept me alive when I traveled alone. Let’s hope jacket magic still exists.
Should she start a conversation with Caleb? Where to begin? Caleb ghosted her. How did one communicate with a ghost?
But he was here now. She couldn’t thank him enough. If only it wasn’t so awkward. She wasn’t a great conversationalist to begin with. The more she considered it, the more strained the silence became.
My high school friends always used to joke with boys or talk sports. There were no sports to debate unless zom
bie killing counted. That left being funny. Not her forte, but witty banter it would be. She had to try something. The void was driving her crazy.
“Hey?” She frowned at her ineptitude.
“Hey, yourself.”
“How are you?” She bumbled along. “We haven’t really had a chance to talk in a while.” This was going brilliantly.
“Losing Eric was harder than I thought it would be. Let me rephrase. Death is never easy, but Eric was like a brother to me. Losing him after the death of all the other people in my life, hit hard.”
“I understand, but everyone was there for you. I would have helped any way possible. We were all grieving the loss.”
“I had to mourn in my own way. It was easier to confide to Victor. He understands the depth of New Race emotions, which might sound odd, but once you change, it’s intense.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think of it this way. The world is all primary colors. Vivid and intense. Love has depth I didn’t understand when human, but it makes the emotions dangerous. You become connected to a person’s life in ways you couldn’t when they are human. I’m not sure if it’s the heightened senses or something else, but pain of loss hurts a hundred times more than it did before the change.”
“Called maturity.”
“Could be, but with the world the way it is now, it would be a lot easier to turn my emotions off. I wanted to die alongside Eric.”
“Maybe what you say about your emotions is true, but I was in pain too. We all were.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We used to be friends. Or something akin to it.”
She couldn’t believe she was about to hold a confessional. What happened to light, witty banter. That went out the door quick. This conversation was anything but.
“Only friends?”
She ignored the question. “I missed you. I could have helped too. I wanted to be there for you.”
“I had to deal with it my own way.”
“I should have made more of an effort to break down the walls and let you know I was around.”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference. It wasn’t a great time for me, but I don’t plan to repeat my bad behavior. I’m here for you now. I’ll protect you.”
She wasn’t sure if she was happy Caleb wanted to protect her or angry, he believed she needed protection. “Really?”
His smile transcended the dark. “You’re as tough as nails, but you can’t decapitate every Streaker in Pittsfield. Even you need backup once in a while.”
“I guess I’m glad it’s you. There’s no one else I’d want behind me.”
“I could read your comment so many ways. Are you sure you don’t want to rephrase it?”
The tension dissolved between them. A gap-took smile emerged. “There is no one else I’d want to support me. Is that better.”
“I’d definitely need to support you if I was behind you.”
“Stop being such an oversexed jerk.”
“What are you reading into my comments? We’re talking about support against Streaker attacks, right?”
The vehicle chopped through the darkness.
“Whatever.” It was time to change the subject. “Do you ever miss the ease we lived in the past?” she asked. “Sometimes, I wish I could go back to high school and flirt with the guy sitting next to me or I wish I had a college class tomorrow, and I could learn about physics or economics. I’d even take one of those math classes I hated in high school.”
“I miss television. I wish I could be with my sisters, bugging them to get off the couch. Mom would bring us hot chocolate and they’d tune into their girly shows every week, and we’d fight over the remote control. When I remember, I miss them so much. I try to avoid reminiscing about the past.”
“I didn’t know you had sisters. Sorry. I was an only child. I hate what happened to my family too, but I’m thankful you are all my new family now. I would be dead if the group hadn’t found me. I’m sure of it. I’m trying to enjoy the little things like Cat and the horses. Keeps me going when stuff like this happens.”
“That’s why Eric’s death was so hard. It was like losing my family all over again. I’m not letting another person die.” He shook his head, exorcising demons. “Tell me more about the horses. I see you working with them.”
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to harness them to the wagon. I found all the stuff needed in a shed but have no idea how to make it work. I wish there was internet or at least a book somewhere on the subject, but no.”
“You’ll have to go riding with me soon.”
“I’d love too. The horses are so well behaved. Someone obviously owned them at one time. What have you been doing to keep busy?”
“I’ve been working with Peter and John on alternative fuel sources for the inn. A gasifier is great but needs constant attention and burns so much wood. We must replenish our supplies daily. Peter’s also wants to create a wind turbine at the inn and we’re scouting for solar panels in nearby areas. It takes time. Most are too damaged to use, but if his ideas work, you’ll never run out of hot water or heat.”
“Sounds wonderful and amazing. I love my hot showers.”
“There you go again, putting images into my brain.”
“Stop it.”
Was he flirting with her?
“Can’t help myself.”
The long but uneventful ride returned them to the dreaded car pile-up, but after exiting Pittsfield already, it was easy to navigate through.
Jenna’s palms began to sweat when the two entered the city. She didn’t want to lose Quentin, but she was also risking a lot coming for the antibiotics. Time gardening at the inn had given her a false sense of security. This was reality. She had to remain hard and ready to kill.
Driving along Main Street, finding a drug store wasn’t difficult. The ransacked building sat on the corner, dark and seemingly empty. Caleb cut the engine and Jenna grabbed a shotgun from the back seat before slinging it over her shoulder. A 22-inch machete and a 12-inch bowie knife cradled her belt.
Caleb grabbed for a shotgun. Instead of knives, his weapon of choice was a large, wooden, baseball bat. They listened and Caleb scanned the area through the open windows. When he gave her a thumbs up, they exited the car, leaving the doors slightly ajar for a quick escape.
The drugstore, with broken windows and a battered front door, was a mess. The dim beam of their flashlights created eerie shadows on the walls and floor. Jenna prayed the light would not attract the attention of unwanted visitors.
Easy to steal items were long gone. Jenna had hoped for left-over sweets, but little merchandise remained on the long-toppled racks What survivors hadn’t looted the vermin finished off. Jenna focused on finding the lifesaving medicines. Living day to day for years had taught her and the group to never pass a chance at any new supplies.
Nothing was insignificant.
The duo combed through the shelves along the route to the pharmacy in the back. They kicked aside debris and turned over discarded boxes, searching for anything of use.
“It appears safe enough. Let’s split up to search the last rows and meet at the pharmacy in five,” Jenna said.
“You sure you want to go it alone?”
“We’ll get out quicker.”
The store remained secretive, cloaked in darkness. Heading in the opposite direction, Jenna’s flashlight licked the floor.
Out of the darkness a sudden shriek pinned her to the floor. Within a heartbeat, Caleb drew to her side, faster than humanly possible. With a hard shove, she stumbled through a swinging door that separated the pharmacy. She righted herself and glared.
“Find what you need. I’ll worry about whatever is out here,” he said, hauling the bat into position.
She found the mostly empty bins and began rummaging through bottles, looking at different drug names. Not one of the labels sounded familiar. How was she supposed to find antibiotics in this mess?
Take everything
.
She threw vials, bottles, and cardboard boxes into the drawstring bag.
Two Streakers rambled toward Caleb. He dropped the bat, aiming the gun. A rally of shots puckered the undead’s faces before splatter hit the walls and floor.
She returned to her search, reading the generic drug names, not one of them sounding like the needed prescription. Out of an abundance of caution, she packed every medicine.
Who knew when you might need something?
She fumbled with a large container, the exterior print reading amoxicillin, something prescribed to her for strep throat.
“Got it.” She swept whatever else was in the vicinity into the bag. “Let’s go!”
They didn’t get far. It emerged from the recesses. Shielded by the inky blackness dominating the store, Jenna couldn’t fathom the Streaker’s size or shape.
She stared at the stunted, hunched figure. Shadow and hair covering its features. That didn’t stop the demonic moan calling for additional undead to join the party.
Not what they needed.
Caleb approached, bat in hand. Jenna pulled the drawstring bag on like a backpack before covering him with her firearm.
All the while, piteous, high-pitched moans crowded the tight space. The Streaker edged along the dark aisle, closing the distance.
Too close for comfort.
“Do you want me to shoot it?” she asked.
“Hold tight for as long as you can. I don’t want the gunfire to become an invitation. I’d like to make it to the exit without the arrival of more Streakers. Let me try to quiet this moaning banshee first before you use your gun.”
Jenna tracked the figure with her flashlight.
Wrong move.
Noticing the light, the undead’s pace quickened. Its head shot up and for the first time, Jenna could see its face in the flashlight beams. She reeled back.
A child. A small girl younger than her at the time when the pandemic craziness started.