Andrew

THE SOUND OF SCREAMING SNAPS ME OUT of whatever sad excuse for sleep I was having. I sit up and the sore muscles from my formerly dislocated shoulder burn and spasm. I barely have time to groan in pain before my eyes are searching the darkness around the fire.

It’s the second night since the alligator attack that the kids have woken up from nightmares. Different kids, same nightmares. Always with the monsters.

I scramble to my feet as fast as my injury will allow—clenching my teeth through the pain—and go to where Daphne and Kelly are crouching near the kids and trying to calm them down. Amy is trying to calm Henri-Two while Jamie points his rifle into the darkness.

Rocky Horror—after realizing we aren’t being beset by alligators again—has turned over and tried to go back to sleep.

“Who is it this time?” I ask Daphne.

“The Kid. You want to take him while I calm the others?”

“Yeah.” I walk over to the Kid, whose cheeks are wet with tears. He reaches up and wraps his arms around my neck, which hurts my arm so bad I have to bite back a groan and take a deep breath before I can speak. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, you just had a nightmare.”

“No! It was a monster. He was right over there.” He spins and points into the darkness. But for some reason he points up, not at the ground, where alligators would be. And that kind of chills me to the bone.

“What did he look like?”

“He has a scary face and it was cut and it had this over his eye.” He touches the gauze on my arm, and again the chills come back. This isn’t just some reptilian creature with teeth. “And he had four arms.”

Okay, so maybe that’s more reptilian monster.

“Well, it looks like you scared him off.” I point into the darkness. The Kid turns and looks over his shoulder, his eyes darting every which way. “So why don’t you lie back down and Jamie and I will stay here and keep watch, okay?”

The Kid looks down at his sleeping bag and pulls it over him. Then he whispers, barely audible over the crackling fire, “I had an accident.”

“Oh. That’s okay! I’ll get Ms. Daphne to help you get cleaned up—”

“No, you help.” He looks up at Jamie. “And Jamie. Keep watch.”

Jamie looks to me and then nods. “You got it, Kid.”

I reach into his backpack and grab a shirt, underwear, and pair of pants. I have to do it one-handed while my arm throbs with more pain. When Daphne comes over to us, I whisper that we’re going to change and ask her to unzip the Kid’s sleeping bag and put it closer to the fire to dry.

Jamie walks with us as we head away from the fire so the Kid can have a bit more privacy. We stopped for the night in a library parking lot, and we walk around the side of the building where the fire is still visible, but it’s a little darker.

I hand the Kid his clothes and tell him to change, and we turn our backs. Jamie still has the empty rifle.

“How many more nights of monsters do you think we have?” I whisper.

He shrugs. “Too many.”

We’re still in Florida, but in the panhandle. The truck and car we stole from Hickey ran out of gas yesterday—first the car, then the truck while we were all piled in the bed. Even if Hickey and the others changed out their flat tires and came after us again, we’re on back roads so should be harder to find.

But in a couple of days we’ll be in Georgia. Even though it’s western Georgia and Fort Caroline is in northeast Georgia, I’m still anxious. It feels like we’re going into their territory. Cara said she can remember most of the supply run routes she mapped out for them that headed west, but what if she forgot one or two? What if someone else from Fort Caroline shows up and they recognize Jamie?

There are a lot of what-ifs, but that’s our life on the road. It’s why I was trying so hard to make the Keys our home. But Jamie was right. They were never our home. These people we’re with are, but the Keys the place was not.

So where is?

“Where are we going?” I ask Jamie while the Kid changes. We’ve been running for so long, it hasn’t really come up where we’re running to.

“Henri’s.”

“I mean after. You heard Trevor. If Fort Caroline shows up to the Keys and we aren’t there, they might tell them where we’re going. We came down to get Amy to help reunite their family, not bring a militia to their doorstep. Also, Henri didn’t exactly ask for seven orphans.” Nine if we count Jamie and me, but let’s not right now.

“Maybe we’ll find somewhere on the way. People followed the rumors to Reagan Airport looking for help; they had to end up somewhere in the Maryland-Virginia area, right?”

The family of siblings we met at Reagan on our way south were going to Chicago in hopes of finding an aunt. Maybe that’s what people would do: scatter and try to find whatever family might be left.

“For all we know,” Jamie continues, “Henri has met others since we’ve been gone. There could be a whole settlement up there.”

I glance over my shoulder and call out, “You doing okay, Kid?”

“Yeah.”

Jamie snaps his fingers. “Cara said she was missing her hometown, that she might want to go back. Easton, Maryland, isn’t far from Bethesda; maybe everyone could go there. Not permanently, but just to hide out until they know Fort Caroline isn’t coming.”

“That could work.” In fact, it might be a great idea. But Jamie and I wouldn’t be able to go. If Fort Caroline ended up traveling through Easton by chance and found us there—despite how low the odds might be—everyone would still be in danger. Without us, they could hide easily and pretend they never even met us.

As if he’s reading my mind, Jamie reaches out and touches my good arm. “Then we go to the cabin like we always planned.”

My chest tightens at the thought of leaving everyone.

“All done.” I turn to see the Kid holding his wet clothes. I take them and we head back to the fire, where I lay out the clothes to dry off. We’ll wash them next time we stop for water.

“You can use my sleeping bag tonight,” I tell the Kid. “I’ll share Jamie’s.” He gives me a quiet thank-you as I ask Jamie with a look if that’s okay. He nods. We get the Kid settled—most of the other kids have already lain back down and are half-asleep or snoozing away.

Jamie fully unzips his sleeping bag, and we lie on top of the yoga mat he uses to pad the ground. “Should we get closer to the fire?” he asks me quietly.

“With your furnace body? I’d rather not die of heatstroke in the middle of the night, thank you.” I lie on the side of my body that doesn’t feel like it’s been through a meat grinder and Jamie nuzzles up behind me, being very careful not to touch my arm or any part of my body that might hurt. But I reach over and take his arm, wrapping it around my middle to pull him closer.

Within seconds I start to laugh quietly.

“What?” he asks.

“You know exactly what.”

“Shut up. I can’t help it.”

But I still shuffle back against him a bit more. This forced proximity is nice.

I’ve missed being this close. Even with imaginary monsters lurking in the dark, I can shut my eyes, feel my boyfriend’s arm around me—and something else, of course—and I feel safe.

The next day we need to get on the highway again for a few miles, but before we do, Rocky Horror goes ahead to check for any signs of Hickey and the others.

We stay back about a mile from the on-ramp, and Jamie and I take the time to change my bandages. It isn’t looking great, and I keep lying, saying it doesn’t hurt. But of course it fucking hurts, I got attacked by an alligator.

The wounds aren’t bleeding anymore, but there’s a lot of gross pus that seeps through the gauze pads.

“We need to find antibiotics,” Jamie says. “Maybe tonight we can stop early. I’ll ask Cara to get us to a neighborhood and we can go door-to-door.”

I nod. “Only if it’s off the highway.” I don’t want to be the reason they catch up to us again. Jamie finishes wrapping my arm and by the time we rejoin the others, Rocky Horror is walking up. But he doesn’t look relieved.

“Did you see something?” Cara asks.

He nods. “I think we should find another way. Remember the caravan that drove past after Hickey found us?”

The beige-and-maroon RV. I almost forgot in all the chaos. Hickey sent people after them, but they hadn’t come back by the time we escaped. I remind the others about that and Rocky Horror nods.

“Which means they could be helping Hickey,” he says.

“Did you see anyone?” Jamie asks.

“No one familiar, but they’re also about half a mile up the road, so what do I know? I didn’t see any of Hickey’s cars.”

“Maybe they left them,” Amy says. “Just piled into that RV of theirs.”

He nods and Cara says she’s going to find us a new route. We go into the shade to rest—it’s an oddly hot day for December. Though maybe not oddly hot for Florida.

About twenty minutes later, we hear the familiar sound of an engine and tires against the road.

Jamie and I jump up, looking at each other to verify we’re both hearing the same thing. We should have gone back somewhere we could hide; instead we’re in the open next to the road. I try to remember a building close by that we can run to, but then the RV rounds the curve ahead of us.

We’re trapped. Again.

I curse under my breath and go back to my bag. As much as I don’t want to, I take out the handgun Jamie stole from the dead man during the alligator attack. Jamie gives me the same look of resignation I must be wearing.

The RV comes to a stop—but there are no other cars behind it. For a while nothing happens, then the door swings open. The first thing I see is empty hands held up toward the sky.

A bald white man with a thick salt-and-pepper beard steps out. A few people follow behind him, but none of them are Hickey or the others from the Keys.

And none of them have weapons.

I lower the gun in my hand as they line up in front of the RV. One of the men catches my attention—a big burly white guy with a scar running down the left side of his face from forehead to jaw, and gauze over his eye.

“The monster!” the Kid yells. I turn and see him duck behind Daphne, who shushes him and tells him what he said is not nice. But the “monster” just laughs and looks at the others, who chuckle along with him.

The bald man shakes his head. “Kevin, I told you to stay hidden.” He turns his attention back to us. “Sorry. Even before he was hurt, he looked like a monster.”

“Fu—” Kevin cuts off the curse, glancing at the kids. “Screw you, Cal.”

“Not much better,” Cal says.

But I’m raising the gun again. “Wait. You’ve been following us? That was you last night?” And the night before. Lurking around us while we slept.

Cal raises his hands again as if to remind us he’s not armed. And Hickey still hasn’t come out of the RV. If they were following us—for at least two days—then maybe Hickey isn’t with them. Why would he let us get farther away from the Keys if he was supposed to bring us back?

“Sorry,” he says again. “We just wanted to be sure before we introduced ourselves.”

“Sure about what?” Rocky Horror joins us. Cara and Amy as well. Amy holds Henri-Two in her arms.

“That the people holding you at gunpoint weren’t still with you. We saw you all on the side of the road. Then two nights ago we saw you drive past us in some of the vehicles, and we thought it was them again. They sent some people after us when we drove past.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “We assumed they were sent to invite you to join up with them.”

Cal shakes his head. “If that was the case, it was the worst invitation we’ve ever received. They pulled their guns on us immediately.”

“Where are they?” I ask.

Kevin’s good eye goes back to the kids and he shakes his head.

“Got a couple nice holes in the RV along the way,” Cal says.

“Is that what happened to your eye?” Cara asks.

Cal speaks for Kevin. “No. That was . . . it happened a while ago.”

“Why did you follow us if you thought we were Admiral Hickey and the others?” Rocky Horror asks.

Again Cal speaks, so I assume he’s the leader. “We wanted to make sure we weren’t running into them again. So when we saw your fire, we waited till you all fell asleep and then scoped you out. When we saw the kids, we assumed you were trying to get away from the others. That the way of it?”

“Yes,” says Jamie. “We’re all from the Keys. We got hit by a hurricane and the colony is struggling with what supplies remain. We decided to leave, and they didn’t like that. The others you saw were sent to bring us back.”

I notice how Jamie isn’t telling them the whole story, and maybe that’s for the best. If they don’t know about Fort Caroline, they can’t use us as leverage, too. For all we know, they could be from Fort Caroline. So before they can ask any further questions, I jump in with my own.

“Where are you all from?”

Cal looks to the others and shakes his head. “A little bit from all over. I’m from California, LA area. Kevin here is from Arizona.” He points to a woman with light brown skin and black hair in a long braid. “Sandra is from New Mexico.” The other three people are from Seattle, Nevada, and South Dakota. “We all met in a settlement in Louisiana.”

A settlement they’re no longer with. I want to ask why, but at the same time, do I need to? People don’t leave settlements after the apocalypse unless they have to.

But Cara’s curiosity is piqued. “What happened with your settlement?”

“Not a hurricane,” says Cal. My eyes move over to Kevin again, and I start to put the pieces together on my own. “Listen, when we saw you, we weren’t really in a place to help since we were a little outnumbered. But I think we are now. We’d like to invite you to travel with us for a while. We can’t guarantee safety, but we can at least help you a bit. Get some more distance on the people chasing you—if they’re still chasing you, that is.”

Subtle way of asking if we slaughtered them, Cal. And his eyes flit down to my arm, so who can blame him? And maybe it’s not that bad to have them think that. A little bit of fear might protect us.

“Thank you, but no,” Jamie says.

Rocky Horror puts up his hands. “Hold on now.”

“We’ll let you discuss it,” says Cal. “While we turn the RV around, you can all talk it out.”

Then they get back into the RV and we go back to our group.

“We don’t know these people,” Jamie says.

Rocky Horror shrugs. “And? None of us here knew each other until we met at the settlement.”

“That’s different. We don’t know if it’s a trap. When they drive us back to their group, Hickey could be waiting for us.”

I shake my head. “Hickey wouldn’t have followed us for two days.” Rocky Horror points at me, nodding aggressively. “And did you hear how cagey they were about their last settlement?”

It’s Cara’s turn. “No one in their right mind would leave a settlement unless they really needed to. Or unless they finally had a window to do so.” She says the last bit very pointedly, hinting at her own exodus from Fort Caroline when she followed us. “If they’re offering to get us a little farther, I think we should take them up on it.”

“We’re getting closer to Fort Caroline territory,” I say. “If we can blend in with a larger group, it might be good for us.”

Daphne and Kelly vote for riding in the RV, too, and after a few seconds, so does Taylor.

Jamie, clearly feeling like he’s been beaten, finally nods. “Okay.”

Just in time, because Cal hops back out of the RV and approaches us. We thank him for the invitation and he helps us corral the kids into the RV. I sit on the floor next to Jamie and put my hand on his knee, trying to communicate telepathically that we’ll be okay.

And maybe it works, because he nods and puts his arm around me, resting his hand on my waist and pulling me tight against his body. Having him against me brings that familiar safe feeling. But the anxiety is still there, deep down.

Worried about who these people are, where they came from, where they’re going.

And if we can trust them.