After several direction mix-ups, the final leg of the bus's journey was spent with Jerome in the driver's seat. Some debates broke out over whether Jerome couldn't give directions or Brandon couldn't follow them, but they eventually found their way.
"We're almost there," Jerome announced as he turned off the asphalt onto an unmarked dirt road.
"Finally," Rachel breathed. She put an arm around Emma's shoulders and gave her an excited squeeze.
In the seat closest to the doors, Brandon leaned forward and peered through the blood-splattered panels. He whistled, shaking his head. "You weren't kidding when you said this place was hard to find."
"Maybe a little too hard." Carmen eyed the heavily wooded land surrounding them. "I'm liable to go into the woods to take a piss and never be seen again."
Jerome warned, "It's gonna get bumpy." Maneuvering around the potholes that littered the road was more of a task than he expected. The largest thing he'd ever driven to Red Fox Creek was a pickup truck, and the bus was much wider than that. The bus bounced viciously as the tires dipped into potholes every few seconds.
Childish laughter erupted louder with each bump, mostly from Adrian. Through his giggles, he said, "This is fun!"
"You'll love it here." Jerome found the boy's brown eyes in the rearview mirror. "There's a creek and all kinds of machinery. Maybe I'll take you for a spin on the backhoe if your daddy doesn't mind."
As they cleared the roughest portion of the road, the trees and foliage began to thin. Then, just as Jerome was about to make the final turn, he slammed on the brakes. The camp was far from empty. Half a dozen people had formed a line in front of the trailers. Most of them held guns and though he was far away, Jerome could tell none of them were friendly faces.
"Dude, what the hell?" Brandon demanded. "You said this place would be untouched for sure."
"I thought it - you saw what it's like, h-how could anyone find it?" Sweat beaded on Jerome's forehead despite the cool air. Unless someone unknowingly stumbled upon the former mine site, one of his coworkers had to have been down there. And what if there was? Things had changed. Jerome wasn't so oblivious he didn't know that. It was perfectly possible that people he used to call friends would shoot him on sight, and he'd driven his family right into it.
"We can take them," Carmen said, her face nearly pressed against the window. "Some of them look old, and we aren't that outnumbered."
"Take them?" Rachel repeated, unimpressed.
"What other choice do we have?" Carmen demanded. "We are not turning around. Frenchie promised us a place to stay, and I expect a place to stay."
Jerome ran a trembling hand through his hair. His stomach frothed so viciously, he was sure what meager food he'd eaten was going to make a reappearance any second. Much to his own dismay, he had to admit Carmen was right. They had nowhere else to go. Returning to Fairbanks wasn't a choice.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Jerome clicked off his seatbelt. "I'm gonna walk down there."
"Papa, no!" Emma pleaded. "They have guns."
"I have to." Jerome mustered a smile and patted her hand. "I will be okay, I promise."
"I'll come too," Brandon said, shooting to his feet.
Jerome shook his head. "They might think we're trying something."
"They might think that with just you, too," Rachel pointed out. "What are the chances these people are going to welcome us with open arms? Come on, honey. This place isn't worth your life. "
"I won't push it," Jerome assured her. "If they tell me to go away, I will."
Brandon pressed a button near the steering wheel and the doors swung open. "If things go bad, you run back here. I'll keep the doors open. You can jump in and I'll put the pedal to the metal."
"This is nuts," Carmen grumbled.
"Alright, Brandon. Thank you." Jerome looked to his wife and daughter. "I'll be right back. Don't worry."
Immediately upon stepping off the bus, Jerome raised his hands high above his head. If they wanted to shoot him they'd find a reason, but he wasn't going to give them one.
A wave of nostalgia crashed over him and almost overtook the fear. Dirt and gravel beneath his boots, golden sunlight on the spruces, the smell of earth and nature. This was practically a second home to him. As he rounded the bend and the people became clearer, a chill went up his spine.
An older woman with short white hair stood with a no-nonsense expression, hands in the pockets of her plaid shirt. Just to her left stood a man of similar age. He looked far less aggressive, with more of a 'deer in the headlights' look. Jerome's worries eased ever so slightly. Seniors were a good sign, it meant this group wasn't the 'survival of the fittest' type like Jerome had met at Fort McAdams.
At the very front of the group stood a tall, black, mountain of a man. His dark green sweater was tucked into cargo pants, exposing the gun on his hip. Unlike the others, he hadn't drawn his weapon and simply kept one hand on his holster. As soon as Jerome was within earshot, the man called, "Don't come any closer."
Jerome froze in place; he didn't have to be told twice. The feeling in his arms was fading to prickles, but he didn't dare lower them.
The man's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why are you here?"
"Not to cause trouble," Jerome answered. At least two of the survivors had found him in the sights on their guns. "I just wanted…" he trailed off as one of the trailer doors burst open. His jaw dropped as Ben Wallace rushed down the steps, only to stop so quickly he almost tumbled over.
Their eyes locked. Jerome's pulse raced faster than he could ever remember. For one fleeting moment he was overjoyed. Seeing anyone familiar, let alone his best friend, was quite a shock. Then, his chest constricted so tightly he struggled to breathe. Everything had changed since they last saw one another. The world had ended. To most people, nothing mattered anymore but survival. Clearly Ben already had a group, and Jerome decided at once he couldn't hold it against Ben if he decided to send him away.
"Get your guns off him," Ben said, his voice hoarse. The hand that had been reaching into his jacket fell limply to his side.
Tense, awkward silence dragged on as those holding guns tightened their grips and glanced at one another questioningly. Several people flinched when Ben cackled like a madman. He charged forward and tackled Jerome in a bear hug that sent them both stumbling backwards.
"You look like you've been put through the wringer, man." Ben released Jerome from their embrace and looked him up and down in awe, shaking his head.
Jerome snorted and raised a brow. He motioned at Ben with a flip of his hand. "You look a bit different yourself," he replied. Ben was just a year older than Jerome but could've passed for someone pushing fifty rather than barely in his forties. It had only been a few months since they'd last seen each other, but Ben's strawberry blonde hair seemed to have taken on a lot more gray in that time. There had always been a sort of vibrancy and brightness to his blue eyes, but now they seemed dull, like the outbreak had sucked the life out of him - and if what Jerome had experienced in Fairbanks was any indication, maybe it had.
"What the hell is going on here?" The older lady stood off to the side, staring expectantly at Ben.
"You've been living in this guy's trailer, Peggy." Ben chuckled when she scowled. He clapped Jerome on the shoulder and continued, "This is Jerome Dufour, a good friend of mine. We worked here together up until a few months ago."
This information seemed to relax some of the strangers, but not all of them. Peggy had crossed her arms and was regarding Jerome with a scrutinizing glare. Even if most of the others weren't so outwardly hostile, they were still glancing around anxiously and stayed silent.
Jerome awkwardly raised a hand to wave at them. "Nice to meet you all."
"Did you come alone?" Ben asked.
Jerome shook his head. "Rachel and Emma are on the bus. Some other folks too."
"What are you waiting for?" Ben questioned. "Bring them down!"
Jerome shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "Are you sure you want us to stay?" he asked hesitantly. "There are six of us, and if - "
"Bring them down," Ben repeated, leaving no room for debate.
Relief and energy Jerome hadn't felt in months coursed through him like electricity. His family was safe. They didn't have to return to the city. They made it. Jerome jogged just far enough up the path to see the bus. He gave a double thumbs up, then waved them down. Moments later, the bus started its descent down the path.
As most of the group slowly went their separate ways, the mountain of a man lingered. "My name is Clarence Evans," he said, extending a hand.
"Nice to meet you." Jerome bit back a grimace as he accepted the handshake. Clarence had one hell of a grip.
"Hey. What's with your arm?" A tall, pale young man with greasy black hair stood over by the treeline, shotgun slung over his shoulder. "Well?" He demanded, hardly giving Jerome time to answer. "Are you bit?"
By now, all attention was on Jerome. The strangers gawked at him, as if he was seconds away from turning. His cheeks grew hot. Clarence's indifferent expression hardened into something near anger.
"It's not a bite," Jerome said. "I got cut in Fairbanks, that's all." None of the survivors relaxed or looked remotely convinced. Even Ben seemed doubtful, and nodded meaningfully to his arm. Jerome yanked up his sleeve, then unwound the gauze and extended his arm for everyone to see. The narrow gash glittered with antibiotic ointment and some of the inflammation had already started to fade. "See?" He gave a small, nervous smile before wrapping the bandage back on. "Nothing to worry about."
If there were any lingering doubts, there was no time for anybody to voice them. The bus finished its descent and rumbled to a stop at the far end of camp. Ben snapped his fingers, seeming to suddenly remember something, and jogged off to his trailer.
The bus doors popped open. Brandon, Adrian, and Carmen filed off first, stiffly heading to the center of camp where they were bombarded with introductions and handshakes. Rachel and Emma came next. They hurried to Jerome, who wrapped his arms tightly around both of them.
Ben emerged from his trailer again, this time with Marvin close behind. Jerome grinned and disentangled himself from his family to greet the older man. He'd gotten to know Ben's dad well over the years and was pleased to see he'd made it through the outbreak; not many seniors had been at the Fort. A lifelong business man, Marvin managed funds for the mine and helped the crew whenever they were a man short.
"I'll be damned..." Marvin strode across the clearing with an ear-to-ear grin and stopped just before Jerome, hands on his hips. He gaped at the Dufours, shaking his head in disbelief. "Boy, is it good to see familiar faces."
"You can say that again." Jerome clapped Marvin on the shoulder and peered over his head to the trailer, expecting at least two others. "Where are Marcia and Kate?" No sooner than the words left his mouth, Jerome realized how insensitive his question was and wanted to smack himself. The joy had vanished from Marvin and Ben's faces like someone flipped a switch. Jerome's gaze dropped downward. "I am sorry..."
"Don't be. You didn't know." Ben shrugged, but kept his explanation curt. "Mom didn't make it."
"What about Kate?" Rachel asked.
"Oh, she's fine, just resting," Ben said. Rachel squealed giddily and clapped her hands. She started towards the trailer, but Ben quickly called after her, his eyes wide. "Wait, Rachel! Wait!" She whirled around, brows raised questioningly. "You'll have to see her later," Ben said. "She's not feeling well. Dehydrated, I think."
"Are you sure you don't want me to check her out?" Rachel spoke slowly, her voice tinged with doubt. "I know you probably don't have a lot of medical supplies, but I might be able to help."
"No," Ben said firmly. "She's fine. You guys just got here, I'm sure you want to get settled in." He beckoned them to follow with a wave of his arm. "Let me show you around the new Red Fox Creek."
The evening flew by in a blur of introductions and questions. Brandon had let it slip that Jerome and his family were from the freshly fallen Fort McAdams, and everybody was eager to hear their story. But Jerome, Rachel, and Emma were far more interested in getting settled than reliving their day. After scarfing down roasted pigeon and some canned vegetables, Jerome hurried into Ben's trailer, which had the only shower in camp. It had been two months since he'd showered without a reminder to keep it under five minutes, and he was glad to take his time.
Jerome slid into the dimly lit stall and watched absently as tepid creek water stripped dirt and blood from his skin. Being back at Red Fox Creek almost felt magical, like Jerome had stepped back in time. Outside of camp, absolutely everything had changed, but within the sea of aspens and spruces surrounding the creek, so much was the same. Even Jerome's old clothes were still there, some torn and covered in dark stains.
"It would have been too weird seeing someone else walking around in your clothes," Ben had said, showing him the dusty tubs full of his belongings that had been shoved to the back of the community trailer. So when Jerome walked into the clearing wearing the same faded jeans, Carhartt jacket, and work boots he once donned daily, there was a moment when he would've swore the past two months had been nothing more than a nightmare, and he'd finally woken up.
Stars twinkled dazzlingly bright in an inky black sky void of clouds. Flames from the crackling, popping campfire danced tall and orange in the center of the small, clear space before the trailers. To Jerome's surprise, Kate was beside the fire, snacking on blueberries and chatting with Lauren.
She'd made a quick recovery in the past few hours, and Ben had almost had a heart attack when she burst out the door during dinner, insisting she felt much better. She had been ecstatic to see the Dufour family, greeting them all with big hugs and scolding Ben for not getting her as soon as they arrived, then promptly spent the rest of the afternoon catching up with Rachel.
Jerome walked to the only vacant chair left, between Rachel and Marvin, and plopped into his seat with a contented sigh, letting the soothing warmth of the fire envelop him.
Rachel immediately shot to her feet. "My turn." She pecked Jerome on the cheek before she headed for Ben's trailer, toting some clothes that Lauren, the only woman in camp who shared such a petite frame, had offered up.
As Emma and Aaliyah stood from the blanket they'd been sitting on, Jerome snagged his daughter by the sleeve and questioned, "Whoa, where are you going?"
"Aaliyah's going to show me a bird's nest," Emma answered huffily. "She says it's on a really low branch just behind one of the trailers, and you can see right inside."
Jerome bit his lip apprehensively and glanced around. Outside of the firelight, everything was pitch black. He could barely make out the shadowy outlines of trees beyond the trailers. "Why don't you wait until tomorrow?" He said, firmly more of a statement than a question. "It's awfully dark, so I don't want you running around where I can't see you."
Emma's face fell into a frown, and she opened her mouth to argue, but Keisha interrupted. "Let them go, Jerome." She smiled, pulled a small flashlight from her cardigan, and handed it to Aaliyah. "Trust me, it's perfectly safe. We've been here for months and without any sick ones around."
The girls took off before Jerome could say anything else. Any feeling of peace or comfort he had vanished as soon as Emma, Aaliyah, and the bobbing beam of the flashlight disappeared behind the trailers. Keisha patted him on the hand, forcing him to drag his gaze from the last spot they were visible. "Relax," she encouraged through a toothy grin, seeming thoroughly amused. "It's different here. They're okay."
"That's what I thought at Fort McAdams this morning," he said lightly, giving a tight-lipped, polite smile. Everything was okay until it wasn't. That was just the way it worked since the moment the outbreak started, and he wasn't comfortable just sitting there, waiting for the other shoe to drop with Emma off in the woods. But of course, at the mention of Fort McAdams, half the heads around the campfire turned in his direction.
"This morning?" Ben questioned. He leaned around Marvin to gawk at Jerome, blue eyes bulging in disbelief. "The Fort went down today? You never said that." A stunned silence fell over those clustered around the fire. Ben continued to stare, then seemed to realize he was being rude. He sank back into his seat. "We're all very curious about what happened." He spoke nonchalantly, but Jerome could tell he was about to burst. "You know...if you're ready."
Jerome held back a scoff. Ready or not, a dozen people were locked onto him, looking desperate and rather impatient to hear his story. He didn't blame them. Anyone could see that if the National Guard themselves couldn't manage to keep things together for more than a few months, it wasn't good. "Well," he began uncertainly, taking a moment to sigh and gather his muddled thoughts. "Things had been going downhill, but I don't think anybody expected this to happen. For a few weeks, meals got smaller until they cut out lunch altogether, we used to be able to come and go from our barracks but then they wouldn't let us go out after dark, things like that. Then this morning, it just…" he trailed off, shaking his head.
Terrible, fresh memories came flooding back. The screaming and crying from terrified people, along with the moans and growls of walkers echoed clearly in his head. "I don't know what happened," he continued, his own voice sounding oddly gruff. He focused on the campfire's twisting flames so he didn't have to see the sympathetic, frightened faces of the others. "The soldiers told us 'Fort McAdams' services are coming to an end.' Someone started shooting, and that was that."
Marvin sat up a little straighter. Almost boastfully, he announced, "I said from the beginning those supposed refugee centers were terrible ideas." He elbowed Ben, who just shook his head. "I talked Ben and Kate into coming here right away, and I'm glad I did."
"You had the right idea," Clarence agreed, combing a hand over his moustache. "Like I've always said, never trust the government with your life, with your family." He chuckled and gestured towards himself. "I mean, I'm a former United States Marine, I can say that. Not that my brothers in the National Guard don't have their hearts in the right place...you just can't trust anyone but yourself with the safety of your family."
Jerome nodded along, and though he now agreed with Clarence, he had to wonder if any of his words were jabs at him for not 'taking care of his family' from the start.
Across the circle, Kate huffed and shared an indignant, knowing look with Lauren. "Not everyone's cut out for that," she said, enough of an edge to her tone to make Clarence's eyes narrow. "There's nothing shameful about relying on other people, especially not those who are supposed to protect you anyway."
"There were a lot of good people at Fort McAdams," Jerome said, snapping his mouth shut as soon as the words had come out. For the first time, it had hit him that those people were gone for good. All of his friends, all of his acquaintances, the people he, Rachel and Emma had shared their barracks building with for two months. Living or dead, everybody he ever knew before or after the outbreak was lost...except the Wallace family. Jerome looked at Marvin, Ben, and Kate and a great feeling of gratitude swelled in his chest.
One of the trailer doors creaked open then snapped closed. Rachel returned to the fire, hair wrapped in a towel, and returned to her chair.
"I was just filling the group in on our adventures," Jerome said, not wanting her to be too surprised if the conversation continued the way it had been going. "I've only told them about the Fort so far."
Keisha quirked a brow. "There's more?"
Brandon guffawed. He'd stayed silent, observing everything at the far end of the circle with Adrian on his lap. "Oh, he's just getting started," he said, grinning. "Tell 'em about the plaza, dude."
"Why don't you tell them about the plaza?" Jerome suggested. His day had been nightmarishly long, and he was growing tired of being in the spotlight.
Just as Brandon launched into the story, there were two loud shrieks and heavy rustling behind the trailers. Jerome leapt from his chair and almost bowled Keisha over in his terrified, panicked frenzy to reach his daughter. He hadn't bounded three steps before Aaliyah and Emma came hurtling around the farthest trailer. They slowed to a stop as they reached the campfire, and Jerome realized with a jolt that they were laughing.
Rachel had been right on Jerome's heels. Her towel now laid discarded in the dirt. Her damp hair streamed behind her as she stormed over to Emma and clutched her by the shoulders and demanded, "What were you doing?"
"The bird woke up." Emma's smile faded fast. She glanced around nervously, realizing the entire group was on their feet and Clarence was shaking his head, returning his gun to its holster. Keisha was already dragging Aaliyah off to their tent, meeting every one of her protests with the declaration that it was bedtime. Emma blinked innocently. "It squawked at us and flew right at my face. We...we thought it was funny."
Rachel's hazel eyes were alight with confusion and anger. "What were you two doing out there alone?"
Jerome was about to go over and catch her up, but a thump on his back made him jump. He whirled around to find Ben, standing with his hands raised in surrender.
"Get a grip, man," he said, slowly lowering his arms. "Come on, I need to talk to you for a minute."
Jerome reluctantly followed Ben through camp as the rest of the group prepared for bed. Rachel snatched up her towel and was leading away a red-faced, pouting Emma. Lauren, Kate, and Samantha were talking quietly as they picked up the abandoned chairs. Jerome reared back when Dean and Marvin poured large buckets of water over the fire. The flames hissed and sizzled as they died out, leaving nothing but glowing logs.
By the time Ben and Jerome reached the path into the woods, it was already so dark that Jerome couldn't see his hand in front of his face. If not for Ben's flashlight leading the way, he would have already been lost. Uneasiness crept over Jerome like a cold blanket. He had no idea what was waiting for them out there, and no matter how much everyone tried to convince him it was safe, he'd have to see that for himself.
The sound of Red Fox Creek's rushing waters grew louder as they blindly neared it and finally, Ben's heavy footfalls came to a stop.
"Still with me?" Ben waved the flashlight beam across Jerome's face, making him cringe and try to block the light from his eyes. Insects and night birds chittered endlessly throughout the thick trees. Ben gulped and didn't say anything for a long moment, until he blurted, "Kate's not dehydrated."
"Okay," Jerome said, exhaling slowly. So, there it was. He hadn't been imagining the bizarreness of the evening. He frowned, worry replacing his momentary panic. "Then it's something more serious?"
Ben nodded."She's uh...well, she's schizophrenic." He stared at Jerome, obviously waiting for some kind of reaction. Jerome's eyes widened but he was careful to not show how surprised he really felt. The images this term conjured in his mind certainly didn't fit Kate, but he knew next to nothing about schizophrenia anyway.
Ben continued, "She's had it since I've known her. You can't even tell with medication, but she ran out." He gulped and didn't give Jerome time to respond before launching into a half-mumbled rant. "I forgot her, forgot my own wife. You know, she wandered out of camp this morning, and I found her in the scrapyard. That's on me." He growled, free hand clenching into a fist. "I've been so goddamn wrapped up with everyone else when I should've remembered and done something about it."
"Don't beat yourself up," said Jerome. "You've had your hands full taking care of things around here, I can tell. Besides, it's not like any real harm has been done. Kate will be good as new once she gets more of her pills, no?"
Ben gave him a long, solemn look. "That's the thing. Dad usually goes with me into the city, but after last time…you know how it is, Jerome. Sometimes infected just come out of nowhere. Dad can't move like he used to, and he had a close call, too close. I haven't let him come with me since, so sometimes Clarence comes along. Jake and Lauren do most of the runs into the city, and I just..." He glanced towards camp and lowered his voice even though they were far from anybody who could overhear. "Things have happened so fast. Even though I've spent day in and day out with these people, I've only known some of them for a few weeks. I don't know how they'd react to knowing about Kate. I don't know that I can trust them."
Jerome felt strangely honored. Even though the world had drastically changed since they last spoke, Ben still trusted him. By now, Jerome had a pretty good idea where this conversation was headed - Ben needed someone to back him up in Fairbanks to get Kate's pills. The very idea made Jerome's stomach sink, but he already knew his fate was sealed. There wasn't anybody else Ben could turn to.
"You want me to go with you?" Jerome asked, almost laughing at the way Ben's face went slack. "Gee, Benny, you could've just spit it out. Of course I will."
"Jerome, I...I don't know what to say." Ben's voice briefly cracked, and he swallowed hard. "Don't you want some time to think this through? I know I'm asking a lot."
"Not much more than you asked of me when you were my boss," Jerome quipped, recalling all the grunt work Ben used to pawn off on him, just because he could - just because Jerome would let him, in an attempt to help him out.
"I'll never be able to repay you."
"Don't be silly," said Jerome, waving his hand dismissively.
Ben's intense stare returned, his eyes tired and empty and warm all at once. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I want to leave first thing in the morning."
"That's fine by me."
Ben slowly started back, shining the flashlight along the heavily rooted, sloped path.
They chatted about old times and new times, and for a short while, Jerome was able to forget what was going on in the world. However, as they returned to camp, and Jerome saw the bloody splashes still smeared across the front of the shortbus, a grim sense of foreboding fell over him.
If something went wrong in Fairbanks again, the chances of someone with a school bus speeding in to save him seemed pretty slim.
Despite the fact that he had slept on a trailer floor elbow-to-elbow with his wife and daughter, Jerome slept soundly. Their makeshift bed of old sleeping bags and dusty blankets wasn't as comfortable as their cots at the Fort, and they were wedged between totes of supplies and the walls, but Jerome didn't care. He'd have been content sleeping under the picnic table after everything they had been through. Nothing else mattered, as long as his family was safe.
The sun was barely above the horizon when Ben cracked open the door and nudged Jerome with his foot until he rolled over and gave him a thumbs up. The dim blue light of dawn outlined Rachel and Emma, soundly asleep in their heap of blankets.
Jerome tiptoed around the trailer, pulling on his jacket and gathering his things. He emptied the backpack he'd taken from the mall of everything except ammo and a few snackfoods, tossed in a bottle of water, and tucked the revolver into his waistband. His muscles ached from an entire day of being on the run, and his head was already starting to pound with the beginnings of a headache.
The latter was almost certainly from his argument with Rachel just before bed. She was still awake when he had returned to camp and he had figured - perhaps mistakenly - that she should be filled in as soon as possible. As he expected, she was pissed.
"You haven't even been here a day and you're leaving?" she had demanded, struggling to keep her voice down. "We almost died today. Why do you want to risk it again?" Even after he told her the truth about Kate, she didn't accept it. "That's not your responsibility. Emma is. But hey, you've got to do what you've got to do. You also can tell her yourself that you're leaving." And that was what almost did him in. Looking his little girl in the eye and telling her he had to go away was one of the hardest things he ever did. The three of them hadn't been separated at all in months.
With one final glance at his family, Jerome sighed and headed outside.
Everything was covered in a thin layer of sparkly frost, from Keisha and Clarence's tent to the tufts of grass puffing from the cracked dirt. Samantha, bundled up in a puffy coat and wrapped snugly in a blanket, waved at him from atop the Peterson's trailer. The heart of camp was otherwise vacant and looked oddly empty compared to the constant hustle and bustle he had seen the day before.
A rusty two-door pickup idled on the road out of camp, bright red taillights contrasting harshly against the dim clearing. Jerome could see through the frosty window that Ben was already in the driver's seat, preoccupied by whatever was in his hand.
The truck creaked horrily both when Jerome opened the door and when he climbed inside. The seats were not unlike carpet in texture, and a myriad of stains blended in with the brown stripes. "Where did you find this thing, the junkyard?" Jerome dropped his bag beside Ben's on the heavily littered floor. Stale cigarette smoke and a general mustiness made him want to brave the cold and crack the window, but amazingly enough, the heat worked.
"It was Dean's." Ben started up the path as soon as Jerome had buckled his seatbelt, expertly swerving around the various potholes. "I know it's not very pretty but it's like a tank. This baby has gotten us in and out of Fairbanks more times than I can count."
"If you say so." Jerome reached into his pocket and rooted around until he found the baggy containing his breakfast. Three pieces of beef jerky and half a bag of trail mix wasn't much to quell his empty stomach, but at least it was something. He offered some to Ben but he shook his head, so Jerome shrugged, hoping he'd already had something to eat. He reached across the seat and picked up one of two pill bottles. The label read Thorazine - Kate Wallace - Take as prescribed, same as the other bottle.
"I know," Ben commented quietly, watching Jerome out the corner of his eye. "It's a needle in a haystack."
"Don't think like that, Benny." Jerome frowned and took a bite from his jerky. Overgrown foliage whipped the truck as they turned onto the main road. "We will find some," Jerome insisted. "We won't leave until we do."
Though Ben smiled, he shook his head. "If you say so."
Jerome opened the glove box. Half a dozen cassette tapes lay inside, nestled among a ratty map and various brochures. None of the names scribbled across the tapes rang a bell. He fiddled with one of the newer looking ones before glancing hesitantly towards Ben. He'd shared his survival story with the group, now he wanted to know how Ben and his family fared.
"So...um, what did you do in the beginning?" He asked softly.
"You know how you said you guys went to the Fort first thing? Well, we headed out of town first thing," Ben explained. "Of course it wasn't that simple. People were fist-fighting in the middle of the street, there was looting and rioting, cars piled up and blocking the streets. And all the while, walkers were taking over." Ben's thick fingers tightened around the steering wheel, turning bone white. "Mom, uh...she didn't even make it two weeks. We were out looking for food, and she just got grabbed."
Jerome shook his head, half out of disbelief and half out of the hope he could sweep out the images of Ben's sweet, gentle mother being devoured. "I'm so sorry," he said, and that was all he could think to say.
"There was so little warning," Ben murmured, his eyes glassy as he stared at the road. "Few rumblings of something weird on the news, then boom, everything was changing. I didn't even realize how bad things were until those messages on the radio. Did you hear them?" Ben scoffed before Jerome could answer, seeming to realize that had to have been how he heard of Fort McAdams in the first place. "Of course you did. I tried to call you," he said urgently, almost defensively. "Must have tried a dozen times before I realized the lines were down. Was even gonna drive to your house, but Dad said we couldn't risk it."
Jerome blinked at him slowly, surprised. He'd tried to get in touch with Ben too, but he'd never expected him to have done the same. Ben had a larger family, and people tended to stick with blood in a crisis. "I called you and Rachel tried to call her sister, but neither one of us could get through."
"And now here we are," Ben said. "God works in mysterious ways, huh?"
Jerome nodded, only somewhat focused on the present. He couldn't think too much about God or fate without it consuming him. Nothing made sense anymore. There had always been bad in the world, sure, but now there seemed to be far more tragedy and heartache than anything else. As the conversation lulled, Jerome shoved a cassette into the player before the depressing silence could mount too much. Ben wordlessly assisted with the buttons, and the rest of their trip was driven to a soundtrack of classic country.
Rachel sat at the dinette booth in the Wallace trailer, shuffling a deck of cards. For all of the ways she still felt uncomfortable in their new 'home', she could appreciate that this was the most normal thing she'd done in weeks. Kate sat across the table, waiting patiently.
What started out as a brief visit had turned into babysitting. Thirty minutes and counting, if the owl-shaped wall clock was correct. Dean had come to the door and asked Marvin if he wanted to go hunting, and next thing Rachel knew she was in the middle of a gin tournament.
"Well, I've won two, and you've won two. I guess this is the championship game," Rachel said. She dealt their hands and lifted hers, peering over the top of the cards to observe Kate. Although she'd been on high alert waiting for her to show some symptoms, she'd yet to see anything but sassy, talkative, ordinary Kate. All through breakfast she participated in conversation and even helped clean up. She hadn't seen Kate act unusual at all since arriving in camp and was starting to wonder if Ben knew what he was talking about.
Kate studied her cards for a few moments. Her long, blonde hair was in a single braid draped over her shoulder, and she twirled the end every now and again. She hesitantly played a card, set the others aside, then interlocked her fingers. "So," she sighed, locking Rachel in a scrutinizing glare. "Let's cut the shit. Either you know something you shouldn't, or I'm even crazier than I thought."
"What?" Rachel questioned. This outburst had caught her so off guard that all she could do was blink at Kate, mouth ajar.
"I think you know exactly what," Kate retorted. "You're not very good at this. I've seen you staring at me every time you think I'm not looking. You and Marvin have that same terrified-deer-in-the-headlights look." She snorted. A sardonic little grin spread across her face. "It's kind of insulting, honestly."
The jig was up as far as Rachel was concerned. Clearly they had all underestimated Kate's awareness, and she didn't see any way to keep up the charade without angering her further. "I don't think of you any differently," she said kindly. "I'm sorry if I've offended you. I'm just doing what Marvin asked."
"Ah." Kate pursed her lips. She slowly picked her cards up and started sorting through them. "So, who else knows?"
"Jerome." Rachel watched carefully for any signs of increased agitation, but Kate hardly reacted at all. "That's it, though. No one else."
"Did he honestly think I didn't know my medication was running out?" Kate laughed, clutching her cards with one hand and rubbing her temple with the other. "I've taken it every day since I was seventeen. I know what it means when I don't have it."
"Why didn't you say something before, then?" Rachel asked softly, fighting against the feeling like she was stepping onto paper-thin ice, broaching territory she had no right to broach. "Ben had forgotten all about your pills...so why did you just let them run out?"
She leaned back against the booth and directed her attention outside. "When I do things like talk about rainbows or smash Marvin's watch, a small part of me knows it's wrong. Yet in the moment I believe it, I have to believe it. The voices in my head are nothing but rational to me when I'm...like that." Her lips tightened into a thin line. "I thought I could handle living without medication. I mean, I've been through therapy. I know how to talk myself through it."
She turned back to Rachel with a remorseful look etched across her rigid face. "It was kind of an experiment, I guess. Because now I know. My friends and family are going to die because of me. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day they will." Rachel's mouth fell open in shock, and she started to argue, but Kate continued, talking over her. "There's no place in this world for the mentally ill, Rachel. There barely was before."
Rachel was at a loss for words. To struggle with something like that and feel like such a burden...she couldn't imagine. "I could see you thinking that way if it was just you and Ben, but you're in a group. I don't understand why you want to hide this from everyone. I think they'd all be happy to help you."
"I don't want help, Rachel!" Kate spat, then pressed her face into her hands. "Look," she began after another quiet moment, an extra note of irritation in her tone. "Even if they wouldn't see it that way now, it's a matter of time. I've figured out by now Ben went to get my medication. That's bad enough. He's risking his life to keep me reigned in for a month or two, tops." She leaned forward with her elbows on the table, locking Rachel into a wide-eyed glare. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you think this mess, this 'end of days' crap, is going away anytime soon."
A single gunshot rang out from somewhere very nearby, surely within camp. Both women flinched and without another thought, Rachel was on her feet and heading out the door. She sailed down the steps, stumbling over a root in the clearing and catching herself against another trailer.
"Emma?!" She hollered, frantically scanning the camp for her daughter. After breakfast, Aaliyah had invited Emma to play again. Rachel was reluctant to let her do anything that wasn't within fifteen feet of the dining trailer, but Keisha offered to watch them. Now, she was feeling nothing but dread and regret as Emma was nowhere to be seen within the chaos taking place. Those in camp were all on their feet and wide-eyed, talking quickly and staring towards the west end of the clearing.
"Where is my daughter?" Rachel demanded, storming towards Samantha, the nearest person.
"I-I don't know," Samantha replied, taking a couple steps back. "All I know is there was a gunshot and they said…" she trailed off as the door to Lauren and Jake's shared trailer swung open. Clarence herded Aaliyah, Emma, and Adrian in front of him, the older two looking terrified.
"They just shot a hole in the roof with one of the forty-fives," Clarence announced, gruffly holding Aaliyah in place even after the other two children had run off towards their parents.
"Emma," Rachel repeated, more shocked than panicked this time. A hundred questions were immediately on the tip of her tongue, and she had to grit her teeth in order to stop herself from losing it in front of half a dozen strangers. Emma trudged over, looking anywhere but directly at her mother.
Keisha pushed past the other survivors and took Aaliyah by the arm. Her nostrils flared with every breath. Rachel barely knew her, but she could tell that woman was furious. Looking remorsefully from Rachel to Brandon, she said, "I left for five minutes to use the bathroom. I thought they would be okay. I'm very sorry." She stomped off, dragging Aaliyah alongside her. Clarence sternly told Jake to keep their door locked from now on, then followed his family into their tent.
As everyone began to go their separate ways, Rachel found herself longing for Jerome's presence. He had much more patience and would've been better suited to handle the situation. Rachel wished she could have waited for him to get back before talking to Emma, but it seemed too urgent to wait even another hour.
"Come on, I want to talk to you." Rachel said. She led Emma into the trees, where they could talk without fear of eavesdroppers. She ignored her daughter's huffing and didn't stop until she was certain they wouldn't be interrupted or overhead. A tree had fallen long ago and created a natural bench, so Rachel sat down and motioned for Emma to do the same.
"What is wrong with you?" She asked as soon as the girl sat down, unable to stop herself.
"I just wanted to look," Emma retorted. "It's stupid, we're the ones that worked to get those guns. They're ours. Why should Jake and Lauren get them? We don't even know them!"
It took Rachel a moment to even register what she was talking about. The night before, when they had started unpacking their things from the bus, Clarence had practically done a happy jig when he saw the arsenal they had accumulated from the plaza. Neither he nor Jerome were comfortable with storing so many guns and ammunition around the kids, so they agreed it made most sense to use Jake and Lauren's trailer for gun storage.
Rachel hadn't given it a single thought since then, and the fact that her ten-year-old daughter clearly had only fueled her anger. "That is none of your concern," she seethed, just above a whisper. Emma frowned. Her face settled into a mask of irritation, and for a moment, she was a spitting image of her father. Seeing she wasn't going to respond, Rachel continued in a gentler tone, "Maybe it doesn't seem like it right now, but things are going to be okay here."
"I'm...I'm the one who pulled the trigger," she confessed, biting her lip. "I didn't mean to. I just picked up the gun because I wanted to see what it felt like and…" she trailed off and shrugged. "I feel so stupid. I know we could've gotten hurt. It was my idea, me and Aaliyah just made Adrian come along because we thought he'd tell on us."
"Thank you for telling me the truth." Anguish began to overtake Rachel's anger. She turned away for a moment, willing the burning tears not to overflow. None of them were exactly the same people they were before the outbreak, but as far as Rachel knew, Emma had gotten through it unscathed. The only change she'd noticed at all was how quiet and withdrawn Emma had become at Fort McAdams, but she was surrounded by strangers. Now Rachel was left to wonder if Emma had been more scared and aware than she'd let on all along, despite her and Jerome's attempts to spare her innocence. Playing with a gun 'just to see what it felt like' was not the decision of a well-adjusted child.
Rachel turned back to Emma and tried her best to smile. "I suppose I have to be honest with you too, huh?" Her voice cracked, and she took a deep, shaky breath. "We're over two months into this, and there's no one to turn to anymore, at least here in Fairbanks. The refugee center's gone. We have to rely on each other. That includes everyone, kids and adults. I can't rely on you if you're going to act like this, sneaking around behind our backs. Everybody has a role, and yours is still to be a kid. That's what I need you to do, okay?" She waited until Emma looked her in the eye and nodded to continue. "Play hide and seek with Aaliyah, share her dolls, just be a kid. Me and Papa will protect you. That's our job."
"I won't mess with the guns anymore," Emma said. "I'm sorry."
She was agreeable and seemed genuine enough, but Rachel couldn't help the nagging voice in the back of her mind. She lied to you once already. She snuck into a stranger's trailer and picked up a gun. She could've shot herself or one of the other kids. Before her anger returned, and she wound up saying more than she really wanted to, Rachel stood up and beckoned Emma to follow. "I want you to apologize to Lauren and Jake too. And if there's any way you can help fix that hole, you're going to do it."
"Alright," Emma sighed.
"Let's head back." Rachel led the way towards camp, weaving around downed trees and forcing her way through the thick foliage.
Her heart sank with dread as soon as they reached camp the Wallaces' trailer came into sight. She couldn't think of anything she wanted to do less than go back in there. The day had started out crappy and gone downhill fast, and now all she wanted to do was keep her head down and get settled in. However, she had been instructed to keep an eye on Kate...and surely her own husband and father-in-law knew what they were talking about…
Or maybe, just maybe, they were overreacting.
As a nurse, Rachel had seen that plenty of times. Sick loved ones brought out the worry-warts in everybody. As Rachel followed Emma across camp, she spared a glance at the trailer once more, then shrugged. Kate would be fine without her.
