Chapter Two
A tall, muscular man walks over to the fire. There's a black handgun tucked into the front of his pants, which are pulled up high over his waist. His hair is dark and curly, and it looks like he hasn't shaved in a few days. He stands tall and proud–this man is obviously used to being in a position of authority, and I doubt many people have ever disobeyed or angered him on purpose. The look in his eyes doesn't allow for a dissenting opinion. "Problem, Ed?" he repeats when it becomes obvious that Ed doesn't intend to reply.
"No," Ed says stiffly. His hands are clenched as tightly as my own, and he quickly looks away from this new man, backing down in an instant. Ed turns his gaze back to Carol. "Why don't you get back to cookin' and stop wastin' time?" He phrases it as a question, but I know it's not. It's a command, and he'll hang around long enough to make sure she carries it out.
Carol hurries to do as she's told, and Ed slinks away, stopping only to spit at Carol's feet once more. The man with the gun shakes his head, either in pity for Carol or contempt for Ed, and he looks at me. He smiles, looking much more friendly and personable as he crouches down beside the fire. "How are you feeling today?" His dark brown eyes stare into mine as he waits patiently for an answer.
"Fine," I say, silently wondering how many people will ask me that today.
He offers me a large hand to shake. It's warm and calloused, but surprisingly gentle. "Shane."
"Alex," I say, letting go of his hand. He leans back to give me some room, and he eyes flick over to Carol. She's bent over the small campfire, diligently cooking food, pretending that both Shane and I didn't just witness Ed's atrocious behavior.
"You look much better than when I found you," he says, startling me. "You looked half-dead when I fished you out of that river. You're lucky I was scouting in the area, or else you would have drowned in that river. What possessed you to try and swim that? Didn't you see how treacherous the water was?"
"It was better to risk the water than stay on land and get eaten alive." Carol tenses up, but doesn't look away from the pancake in the pan. "I managed to kill one with a stick, but there were others in the trees, and I knew I couldn't take on more than one at a time. So, I jumped into the river, hoping I would be able to swim to safety. I was wrong."
"Well, take some time to look around. Meet some of the people here, get used to the layout of camp. Eventually you'll have to start pitching in; everyone here does something. Carol helps cook, do laundry, and helps teach the kids. Maybe you could follow her around for a little bit, until you're comfortable enough to get around on your own."
I nod my head. "Okay. If you think that's what I should do." I look over at Carol, who still hasn't said a word since before Ed left. "If that's alright with you, Carol."
She doesn't look up. "That's fine. I'll look after her, Shane."
Shane puts his hat back on his head. "Carol, you let me know if Ed gives you any trouble." Judging by the tone of his voice, I can tell he knows she won't, but will ask her to anyways, just in case there's the slightest chance that she'll come to him. "Have a nice day, ladies." He walks away with his hand on his belt, near his gun, and he wanders off into the forest. I'm not sure what he thinks he can do out there, but I don't even care. I'm more worried that Carol will get in trouble because of what I said to Ed.
"Carol, are you alright?"
She looks at me. "I'll be alright." Her voice is so quiet and timid that I want to just reach out and hug her, but I don't want to touch her without permission. "I have to finish making breakfast for the others, and then I'll check in on the kids. There's really nothing you can do here. How about you go introduce yourself to some of the others here."
"I'm not much of a people person," I mutter, looking around at all of the people that are trying to go about their day. "And they all look so busy. I don't want to disturb them."
"Nonsense," she says, refusing to take no for an answer. "You shouldn't be stuck here with me all morning. Why don't you start with Dale–he's the man on top of the RV. He's a friendly guy, and he'll be able to answer any questions you might have about this place."
I look over at the RV, and spot Dale. He's still sitting in a lawn chair beneath an umbrella, and the rifle looks like it hasn't moved from his lap since I first peeked out my tent flap. "Is it safe to just walk around with no weapons? Not that I have any, but I mean–"
"It's as safe as it can be," she says sadly. "Don't worry. Dale's always on lookout, and there are others in the camp that have weapons. Shane, Jim, Morales, T-Dog, and Glenn usually have something on them. If anything does happen, Dale will spot the danger long before it becomes a problem. No more stalling. Go."
Slowly I make my way to the RV, thinking as I go along. Carol seems so much more open when Ed isn't around. She doesn't cower or hold herself back. I wonder what she would be like without him to keep her down. I feel weird thinking such things, because I'm not the one married to Ed, and I don't have any right to intrude in her personal life. Things like this will always be a touchy subject, because Carol isn't a child. She's a grown woman, and would ask for help if she wanted it.
Right?
Shaking my head, I start to climb up the ladder to the roof of the RV. When I reach the top, Dale offers me a hand, and he helps me to my feet. I take a seat on the roof of the RV beside him, and he smiles down at me with a friendly look in his eyes. "Glad to see you up and around. When Shane brought you back, I thought for sure you'd be out of it for a few days."
"How long was I out?"
"The rest of the day Shane found you, that night, and early this morning. Not nearly as long as everyone thought." He looks me over, and he spots the bandaging on my arms and wrists from the thorny branches in the woods. My feet are bandaged lightly as well, and I didn't even bother to ask who did it. "Do you know who bandaged me? I didn't really get a chance to ask who did it."
Dale offers me another friendly smile. "I believe it was Carol. She's got a bit of a knack for caring for others. She's a good woman."
"She's got an evil husband," I say flatly. There's no use pretending that Dale didn't see the whole exchange between us, Ed, and Shane. "How many people around here know about the way he treats her?"
"Quite a few. I see everything that goes on in camp, sitting up here all day with my umbrella, rifle, and binoculars. I've tried to talk to her about it," he says sadly. "But she likes to keep to herself about her problems. Shane noticed the first day he met Carol and Ed. He's a former police officer you know."
"Ed?" I ask, shocked.
"No, Shane. He was partnered with Lori's husband. When the infection started to spread, he got Lori and her boy Carl out of the city, and he started picking up other survivors along the way. Unfortunately, the world's in a pretty bad place right now. So bad that we can't afford to pick and choose survivors. We'll need every available person to rebuild our society. Even men like Ed may have a place once this is all over with." He falls silent, and I look out at the camp spread out below us.
Everyone seems so at peace, so carefree. Some of them even manage to look happy. From my spot on top of the RV, I can see a tan-skinned man hug his wife and two young children. She kisses her husband on the cheek, and he walks off with a pickaxe over his shoulder. "Morales and his family," Dale says, startling me. "Everyone is always happy to find anyone with kids. Most don't want to think about what happened to the other kids in the world."
He's right. The thought of what happened to all the young babies and children in the world is a sickening one, and it makes my stomach roll. Biting down on my lip, I fight back the nausea that threatens to overwhelm me. I refuse to show any signs of weakness in this new place in front of all these new people. I don't want them to think I'm too weak to pull my own weight, or they might not let me stay.
"This is the safest place I've been in weeks."
Dale sighs. "There's so few places left in this world that are safe. I was glad when we found this one. Shane took over and he dictated work for everyone, and he organized scouting parties and scavenging parties. We've managed to survive out here. Hopefully this can become a semi-permanent home for us until this all blows over."
"You think that's what'll happen? That this infection will all just go away? That all we have to do is outlast it? What if it's here to stay? What happens if it never goes away, or if there's never a cure? We could be facing our extinction."
He shakes his head. "I have hope for humanity. We're not going to go down without a fight. Someone somewhere will find a cure, and then we can begin rebuilding the human race. People will be able to start over fresh, and this will all just become a distant nightmare." He goes quiet again, and I think of some other topic to talk about that isn't as morbid.
Though it is refreshing talking to someone that still has hope for humanity…
"So, how does a group this size manage to stay fed? I would think it would take a mountain of food to keep everyone somewhat happy and healthy."
"We ration everything. There's a lake down the way," he says, nodding his head, "and we boil that for drinking water. We use it to wash our clothes, too. Then we have a man in our group that goes out hunting for game; he usually brings back squirrels, rabbits, or anything else he can kill. And we have a young man by the name of Glenn that makes trips into the city for canned goods. We're careful, so we manage."
He sounds so positive. "How does one hunter manage to catch enough food for a group this size? I mean, that's a lot of mouths to feed, right?"
"Well, fresh meat is a rarity around here, since we only have the one hunter. His older brother could pitch in and hunt too, but he's usually too high to be of much help to anyone. Better that he doesn't have any weapons on him while he's in camp. But, Daryl does fairly well while on his hunting trips. Merle's more selfish, though."
Merle? I almost laugh. Who names their kid Merle? I wouldn't name a dog Merle! I start to giggle, and Dale grins at me, happy just to see someone else smiling. I always loved those kinds of people that managed to be happy for another person's happiness. They were almost always all-around good people. People you could depend on in a fix.
"Well, speak of the devil," Dale says, sitting forward. His smile is gone, replaced by a concerned frown. A man walks past the RV, and he stops long enough to offer Dale a mocking salute. The man looks to be in his early to mid forties, with short, gray hair, and light blue eyes. He sniffs loudly and wipes his thumb under his nose, before shoving a plastic baggie of something into his vest pocket.
"Is that Merle?"
Dale nods. "Yeah, and it looks like he's thinking about going on the supply run that's about to leave." Dale is obviously concerned about the others on the supply run, and he leans forward to check out a group of people standing near the edge of the camp.
The group consists of a young Asian man in a baseball cap, Morales, the dark-skinned woman that walked by with the laundry earlier, a blonde woman in her mid-thirties, Merle, and a dark-skinned man in shorts, sneakers, and a t-shirt. Every one of them looks uneasy at Merle's presence, but nobody says anything, and the group heads out to go on their supply run.
Dale watches them through his binoculars until he loses sight of them, and he collapses back into the folding chair. "Well, I think I should probably go find some way to contribute to the group, seeing as I'm hoping to stay. It was nice meeting you," I say, lowering myself to the ladder.
"Miss? I didn't catch your name."
I peek back up over the edge of the rooftop and give him a smile. "Alex. Alex Cooper."
"Be careful around here, Alex. And if you ever wanna talk, just come find me. I'll listen."
XXXXX
It takes me almost twenty minutes to find someone with work to do. Lori comes back from her mushroom hunt with no mushrooms in her bucket, and she hands me a stack of dried clothes to fold. She and I work diligently without talking, and I keep looking around the camp, eagerly awaiting the return of the supply group. Lori and I quickly finish the laundry. She gives me a somewhat friendly clap on the shoulder, before shooing me off to look for more work while she takes care of Carl.
Lunch comes and goes, and there's no sign of the group, but nobody other than Amy looks too worried, and Dale tells me that her older sister Andrea is the blonde woman on the supply run. When a few hours pass by, everyone in camp starts to cast nervous glances at one another as they try to stay out of the rain. I'm tucked up neatly beside Dale underneath his large umbrella and a blanket, and I can't help but notice that he looks at the road leading out of the quarry every few minutes as if he's hoping they'll appear out of thin air.
Suddenly, a crackly voice comes through on the camp's radio, and Shane rushes to answer. There's so much static and white noise that nobody can make out what the person on the other end is saying, and he asks them to repeat while he fiddles with some knobs on the radio. Everyone in camp fidgets nervously, and people begin whispering to one another. Finally, a man's voice comes through loud and clear.
"We're trapped in the department store! There are geeks all around!"
Everyone in the camp falls silent. Amy is the first to break that silence. She begins to sob, and Lori puts her arm around the younger girl's shoulders. Shane's hand tightens around the radio so tightly I can hear it creak, and I'm worried he might break it by accident. When the radio goes dead, he looks at Amy and sighs.
"We have to go after them!" Amy says. Her voice is shaky, but she's pleading with Shane, and she doesn't look like she'll take no for an answer.
"We can't risk it," Shane says regretfully.
"She's my sister, you asshole."
"I'm sorry Amy, but we can't risk it. They knew the risks when they agreed to go. You heard what T-Dog said. They're surrounded by walkers. Even if we could get to them, there's no way we could get them out safely. I'm sorry," Shane says. He's pleading with Amy just as much as she's pleading with him. He's begging her to understand that his hands are tied.
Amy's hands tremble at her sides, and for a second, I worry that she'll try to hit him. After a long few seconds, her entire body relaxes, and she turns on her heel and walks away from him. Everyone sees her crying, but surprisingly, nobody goes after her. Nobody reaches out to comfort her. They just allow her to walk right by, upset and scared. Amy disappears into a small blue tent and zips the flap, but I can still hear her muffled cries through the thin fabric.
Everyone splits off to do their own thing. I think some will go pray for those stuck at the department store, and others will look for anything to do to keep their minds off of their friends' fates. "Shane–"
"Lori, we can't," Shane says softly. "They knew the risks, and I don't think they would want any of us to die trying some rescue attempt. There's nothing we can do." Lori shakes her head, and Shane puts a hand on her shoulder. The touch might look like one friend comforting another, but I see more than just friendship in Shane's eyes. There's intimacy, devotion, and even love. When Lori shakes him off, his eyes harden just a little, and he steps away from her. "I'm sorry, Lori."
"I don't want your excuses."
She storms away from Shane and closes herself in a tent with Carl, leaving me and Shane alone at the radio. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, as if just now noticing that I'm standing right there. He clears his throat, managing to look ashamed and embarrassed at the same time, and he walks away from me without an explanation, not that I would have asked him for one.
I wonder how long they've been sleeping together…
Shaking my head, I make my way back to the RV, where Dale is still sitting under his umbrella. He scoots over to give me some more room under the umbrella, and he hands me a small washcloth. It's nice and dry, and I use it to dry off my arms, face, and neck. When I hand it back to Dale after drying off, I nod my head in Lori's general direction. "I thought…" I'm not sure how to start this question without sounding like a judgmental bitch, but I have to know. "I thought Lori had a husband."
Dale nods his head. "He died in the initial wave. She said he was in a coma, and that he died when the hospital got overrun. Shane took it upon himself as her husband's partner to get Lori and Carl out of the city. Said if he couldn't save his partner he was gonna save his partner's family."
"Well, that's…noble."
"Being on the run and constantly afraid and in danger, it makes two people grow closer together in a short span of time. Lori's devastated over the loss of her husband, and I think she just wants someone to take her mind off it." He meets my eyes, and I see kindness and understanding. "She loves her husband, and that will probably never change. But people deal with grief in different ways, Alex. She was desperate for affection."
"Well, I guess I can't blame her for wanting someone to comfort her during the end of the world. If I had a kid to worry about, and my husband was never coming back, I'd probably be pretty upset too. Don't know if I'd jump into bed with my late husband's partner, but to each their own, I guess. You know, I'll bet that's why she came back from mushroom hunting with no mushrooms earlier."
Dale chuckles softly. "That would probably be why."
"They don't want Carl to know."
"Of course not. He's just a kid, who still misses his father something awful. I'm sure Lori thinks it would just cause him unnecessary pain. I may not agree with what she's doing right now, but that woman is willing to do anything for her son. She'd protect her child with her last breath."
"Do they know that you know about them?"
Dale shakes his head. "I don't think so. And as far as I know, I'm the only one that's noticed. Everyone else is always busy doing their work, and I'm always sitting up here, watching everyone and making sure this place is safe. Because of that, I tend to notice more things than others. I've seen them sneaking off into the woods to be alone, and I've seen the way Shane looks at her and Carl."
"He loves her."
"I think he loves both of them." Dale lapses into silence and the two of us sit on top of the RV, neither of us saying a word. Dale watches over the rest of the camp, trying to make sure that we're as safe as we can possibly be, and I kill time daydreaming about life before the infection started. I think about my friends, my family, my home, my life.
Nothing will ever be the same again…
A couple of hours later, Dale frowns, and leans forward in his chair, placing his binoculars to his eyes.
"Dale, what's wrong?"
"Shhh," he says. "Do you hear that?"
A loud noise echoes off the canyon walls that surround the quarry, and it quickly draws the attention of everyone around the campsite. "It sounds like a car alarm. What's it doing way out here? Do you think it could be other survivors?"
"Stolen car, no doubt."
A bright red car tears up the road, kicking up dust and other debris, before skidding to a stop at the edge of camp. The Asian man, Glenn, hops out of the driver's side, but the alarm doesn't turn off. He and Shane argue about it, and Glenn tries to pop the hood but Amy keeps pestering him with questions about her sister. When Glenn finally manages to pop the hood, Shane fiddles with something, and the alarm shuts off.
A van pulls up behind the car and Glenn smiles. Andrea, the blond woman, is the first person to jump out of the back of the van, and she and Amy run to one another. Morales goes to his wife and kids, and they swarm him. He picks up his young kids and balances one on each hip, hugging them both tightly.
Glenn and Shane are still talking, but I'm not paying attention to either of them. Instead, I focus on the driver of the truck as he steps out. The driver isn't Merle, the only member of the supply group that is unaccounted for. It's a man in a police officer's uniform, and his eyes lock on someone in disbelief. He staggers back a step as a young boy yells, "Dad!"
The officer scoops Carl up and holds him close, while Lori stares on in disbelief. She walks forward slowly, as if in some kind of trance, and the officer's arms wrap around her, and the three of them just stand there holding one another, swaying back and forth and crying. Everyone in the camp looks shocked and confused, but nobody looks more shocked than Lori. She looks up over her husband's shoulder, and her eyes meet Shane's. In them I see guilt and a wordless accusation.
"She's got some explaining to do," I say quietly.
Dale nods his head, but he doesn't take his eyes off of Carl and his father. "Yeah, she does."