Chapter 25.
Figment.
Andrea had never spent much time in Atlanta – or Georgia, for that matter. She was from the west, where the skies were open, the horizon within reach. Her parents were the ones who liked the east, who insisted they would retire here. Dad said he would live in Florida, fishing for gators and lying on a beach somewhere, maybe at the same time. But she knew them better than that. Mom hated humidity and poor people. Dad was too stiff to retire.
Or, that was who they were when she left for college.
Amy told it differently. Mom was sweet and charitable, teaching music in a public school, running fundraisers and donating blood. Dad was humble, compassionate, heading up a group of scouts. And apparently he quit smoking.
She thought about him while she picked through tourist brochures at the front of the market.
Madrid. Rome. Berlin. She got into so many fights with Dad about the places she wanted to go. He was a diehard American, insisting that the best place for anyone was where they already were. She would have done anything to make him happy – anything – but that was where she drew the line. It was the only thing she ever challenged him on.
And she wondered if those exotic places were in the same situation. Were they watching the chaos unfold on the news? Were they on their way, trying to help?
"Planning a trip?" Jacqui wondered, venturing closer with a full basket. She had collected everything she could get her hands on, from half-used lotion to squashed crackers. Most of her loot was not food, but still valuable to the survivors.
She looked out of place here, in this ruined grocery store. In all of the chaos, the heat, the humidity, Jacqui still managed to look refined. She held herself with dignity, kept her clothes clean and pressed, her hair perfectly arranged. Andrea was a little jealous of her composure.
"I was, before all this," Andrea said, putting the pamphlet back in its place. She thought of the large suitcase that was probably still zipped up in her closet back home. If she had not come for this quick, reluctant visit, she would be a thousand miles from here.
She went back to work, snatching whatever people had missed when they ransacked the place. It had been long enough to spoil all of the perishables, to give the store a rancid smell, and hot and humid enough to grow mold in the freezers. Angela had to breathe through her mouth and try not to think about the puddles she was stepping over, not even considering opening the freezer doors to forage for whatever might still be edible. Glenn, T-dog, and Jacqui did the same, the four of them unwilling to sink that low – not yet, anyway.
Jacqui trailed behind her, "Are you from the area?"
"No. New Mexico." Andrea laid down, checking under shelves. "You?"
"Here, for a while now. I worked in city planning."
"I guess that's why they let you make the map," Andrea said, smiling. "I guess no one let you do anything, though. You're kind of a badass. You took Shane down a peg."
"Men," Jacqui said, simply.
Andrea snatched a jar of peanut butter that was wedged beneath the shelf, causing the whole thing to tip toward her. She was buried in shaving supplies, briefly trapped under a ridiculous plastic teepee. Jacqui caught it before it could land on her, holding it up while Andrea wiggled out the other end. She got up and staggered, stricken with the sudden fear that she had injured herself – an inconvenience in the past, but out here, a death sentence.
"Are you okay?" Jacqui whispered in the now-silent store.
Glenn and T-dog were staring at them from the pharmacy door, incredulous.
Andrea winced. "Yeah. I'm fine. Sorry, guys."
Glenn also asked, "Are you okay?"
She nodded, murmuring another apology before she restarted her search. They had been in the city for hours and their supply was still meager. Her jar of peanut butter was the most substantial find, definitely worth all the noise. Glenn found a few cold medications and T-dog stuffed twenty 'make your own candy necklace' packs into his bag.
"Kids will like them," he explained with a smile.
He was sweet.
Glenn hesitated outside, looking into the quiet neighborhood. Desperation settled on the four of them. They were on a cracked road below a few major overpasses, where old neighborhoods sprawled out between giant columns. It was the remnants of people the city probably wanted to push away, but they persisted. Little gas stations, diners, and churches dotted this area, making a self-contained world so close, and so far, from the more fortunate residents.
Andrea lingered on the dilapidated front porches, the dry-rotted tires nearly swallowed by the overgrown grass. "I wonder how many of them made it out…"
T-dog narrowed his eyes, thoughtful, and then looked away. "Not enough."
Jacqui and Glenn were talking shop.
"If we keep going," Jacqui was saying, "we could cross Mercer and get to a neighborhood just like this one on the other side. We did a few outreach programs in the area. I can't remember exactly where they are, but there are more stores nearby."
Glenn kneaded his forehead, "Mercer is huge. We haven't scoped it out since…"
"Is Mercer a road…?" Andrea asked.
"A park," Jacqui said. "It has a soccer field and some splash pads."
T-dog spoke evenly, plainly, "I think we should go back, take what we got while we can."
"We barely have anything," Andrea said.
"We got our lives."
She couldn't argue with that.
Jacqui could, though. "Maybe no one else chose to risk going that far into the heart of the city. We could get lucky with those stores. We could find enough to feed everyone for a few days, at least."
Andrea hated the thought of trekking further into Atlanta. It made her nauseas. But going back to the quarry with nothing but a jar of peanut butter would be so much worse. "We can't leave without supplies," she said. "We have to try."
She thought of her sister, thought of handing Amy something to eat tonight.
Glenn sighed, showing his anxiety by bouncing on his heels. "Okay. I'll go ahead and see what we're up against. I'm faster on my own. If it's too dangerous, we'll bail. Just wait here."
Once he was gone, there was nothing to do but mill around. Andrea surveyed their surroundings, suspicious of the houses.
She traced the lines all the way back up the road, following the dance of dripping tar as it crossed faded yellow, cracked white. She used to play on a road like this when she was a kid, surrounded by other kids. Daddy was standing at the end of the road, leaning on a green pickup, smoking a cigarette. Heat lines rose up and framed him, obscured his face beneath a wide cowboy hat. Soft, crooning country music played over his old speakers, crackling, a live audience cheering when the chords shifted. She could almost smell the smoke, almost feel his rough hand on her shoulder, almost hear his voice telling her it was time to go home.
It felt like more than a lifetime ago, but the memory was still as strong as the day it was made. Her dad was not warm, not jolly, not even remotely affectionate, but she loved him so much that the thought of him being dead was like being shot in the chest.
Jacqui broke her trance. "Where were you gonna go?"
Andrea blinked, and the figment of her father vanished, leaving an empty, quiet road behind.
"What?"
"On your trip. Where did you want to go?"
Andrea picked a brick on the storefront to stare at. "It seems so pointless now."
"Well, we don't have anything else to talk about."
It was godawful hot out, but she felt strangely cold. Jacqui had a kind smile on her face. Andrea said, "I wanted to backpack across Europe – wanted to since I was a kid. But things happen, you know? I was finally in a place where I could just walk away from it all."
"Away from work?"
"Something like that." Andrea smiled, though the topic was rather grim. "I bought the plane tickets a few days before the walkers showed up. Kind of ironic. I was only in Georgia to visit… and I wasn't planning on coming back."
T-dog was watching them, resting his chin on the stick he insisted on carrying around all day. "I went to France with my church. Big thing for the kids. Wasn't impressed. You dodged a bullet."
Andrea and Jacqui laughed.
"Not that it matters now," Jacqui said, "But I was working on a doctorate. I was this close. I had all these deadlines, all these responsibilities, and then overnight… poof. None of it mattered."
"You must be some kind of genius," Andrea said.
Jacqui shrugged, "Public policy. Not exactly rocket science, just tedious."
"If we hold a group election for mayor, you have my vote."
It settled on the three of them, then, a joint realization. Would they have to elect a mayor, one day? Would it be one of them? Or someone they had never met? Every now and then the little things culminated into glaring evidence that the world was wrong. It shook her foundations, challenged everything she had been taught. She only hoped she could adapt quickly enough.
Glenn returned half an hour later, horrendously sweaty. He took a long drink from his water bottle, and a few minutes to catch his breath.
He finally said, "It's clear out there. I don't know where all the walkers are, but they're not in the park. We can make it across. I think the stores were chained shut." He shrugged his backpack off, falling to his knees with the effort, panting like he might suffocate at any moment. He pulled a thick pair of bolt cutters from inside, holding them up, grinning. "Look what I brought."