It's not that we hadn't thought to check if the Hummels were still alive. But we needed to use a little logic and common sense on our journey. First: we had a difficult, calculated and very well-defined mission. Second: we weren't sure where exactly was the house Finn Hudson was buried. Understand that we've only travelled that road at night once, almost a year ago, and that we'd have to pass through militia territory. It wasn't worth the expense of gasoline to circle north and then go south again. Third reason: if they were still alive, it was very unlikely that the Hummels would continue to live in this place with Finn Hudson's killer for all that time.
Another point in our debate concerned Lima. Quinn and Brittany said they wanted to check if Lima was still up. But the city would also represent a significant detour from our route. Furthermore, nearly one-fifth the size of Lima was an oil refinery industrial park that must have been controlled by former military or some militia. It was because of this refinery that the hospital in Lima was the best equipped in the region, better equipped even than hospitals in larger cities like Akron, Toledo and Dayton. I remember hearing my father complain that a significant portion of emergency patients came from that company. So no, the majority voted not to divert our route to see what happened in Lima more than a year after the apocalypse.
A third debate was about the Olivers. But no one had a clear memory of where the farm was, and also what was the point in going after people who helped us just once? No one considered returning to Indian Lake. Probably the place was purged by reapers or taken over by those assholes.
"Are we there yet?" Quinn said in a small child's voice, wanting to get our attention after a long silence in the car.
"If you're referring to nowhere, I guess so." I said without much humor.
"It looks like Mike plotted a route to take all the ghost towns and roads along the way." Quinn sighed. "Nothing happens."
"The fact that nothing happens is good in our notebook, right?" Rachel pondered. "I just wish the radio would work."
Brittany turned on the then new brand navigation and entertainment system in that car, which had bluetooth, USB input, GPS and everything else that you could use with a wi-fi connection. It just didn't work. In that world, finding an old radio that played a K7 tape or even a CD would be much more valuable. Brittany searched for stations and there was only static.
"Do you know where we are?" Quinn asked.
"Close to Cadiz, I think." I answered.
"Will we ever see the result of your explosive adventure?" Quinn teased me.
"No, because we're going to get on that overpass and go up north towards Harrison State Forest, then we're going further north. Our goal is to get to a small town called Lisbon, and from there, we'll head east to Pennsylvania through another small town called East Palestine. The idea is to do the first overnight stay anywhere we can find in Allegheny National Forest."
"East Palestine?" Brittany smiled. "Can Rachel go in there?"
I looked at my girlfriend not understanding at first the joke she intended to tell. After some time, realization came.
"Oh!" And I smile a little bit. "My god, I even forgot that Rachel is Jewish."
"I never forgot that you are Catholic, Santana. Or that Quinn is a Christian. Or that…what are you again, Brittany?" Rachel replied in a petulant tone.
I didn't know at that point if Rachel was really having second thoughts or if she was having a little confrontation with Brittany. Maybe it was just in my head, now that I knew about her feelings for me. Or maybe I was overthinking about it and Rachel was just being Rachel.
"Well, I believe we are in a matrix created by a supercomputer we call god. I'm serious! I've seen failures in the matrix before."
I wanted to laugh at my girlfriend because every time she was confronted about religions, she would make up some crazy story. My favorite was about us being a laboratory experiment for the grays aliens at the behest of the creator god who inhabited the Pleiades, and who were at war with the draconians, and that was actually the inspiration behind the Star Wars' plot. But I knew Brittany just believed in a creative being, maybe a creative energy, and everything else didn't interest her at all.
The subject was interrupted when Mike activated the blinker alert, which was a sign that we should stop. We parked the cars, one after the other. When I was getting out to find out what was going on, Tina got out of the car running and went to the woods to vomit.
"I think the granola bar she ate didn't do her much good." Mike waved at us.
"She needs to hydrate." Quinn assumed the role of lead nurse for the group and went to help Tina.
Since everyone else took the opportunity to stretch their legs, I went into the woods to empty my bladder. I wasn't very shy about the others seeing me doing this because I was so used to see the boys watering a tree, or even the girls crouch down to pee in the forest behind a tree without much protection. All I needed was a little bush for me to feel at ease doing the my needs. That's when I saw a figure in the woods. I pulled up my pants and walked backwards to the cars slowly and cautiously.
"Get in the car!" I ordered using sign language. "Now!"
When I stepped on the asphalt, I ran to my truck and everyone else did the same in fright. Rachel got into the seat next to me and Blaine got into the back seat. Mike, Tina and Quinn ran into the front car and I was relieved that Brittany and Sam made it into the back truck. A horde of reapers that was sleeping nearby, woke up and attacked us. I started the car and was the first to accelerate. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that the other two cars were behind me.
"That was a close!" Blaine was scared. We all were.
"This region looks like it's infested with them!" Rachel was also startled.
"Well, they were humans before, and the planet was infested with us."
Until then, we had driven at a steady pace, with an average of 120km/h, but at that moment I really accelerated and only slowed down again when I saw that there were no more reapers behind us after more than twenty minutes. I recognized the Cadiz viaduct and gave the signal for the other cars to stop. Tina jumped and vomited again, being supported once more by Mike and Quinn.
"Everyone is okay?" I finally asked as I got out of the truck and headed towards my girlfriend.
"Yes, it was just a scare. Good thing everyone was close to the cars."
I nodded and hugged my girlfriend. Then I kissed her on the lips.
"I almost pee in my pants." I said without thinking too much and Brittany laughed.
"Guys, as far as we know, reapers don't sleep outside a shelter." Sam was afraid. "I wonder what's going on?"
"The forest was very dense at that point." I analyzed. "We were in the middle of nowhere so they must have crouched down to sleep there as the sun wouldn't hit them directly. If they were already awake, I wouldn't even have a chance of hitting the asphalt."
"It's a reasonable explanation, Santana, but we don't know if there's a new pattern change." Mike was skeptical. "Well, anyone who wants to empty their bladder, or their bowels, better do it now. We're just stopping after Lisbon."
Each one looked for a discreet spot and did the needs. After that, I ate my granola bar and drank some water while watching my friends. We had a bit of a scare, but it was nothing extraordinary. At that point in the apocalypse, especially to me as part of the team searching for things in the city, that kind of action was relatively common. I'm not saying that reapers and zombies have become less dangerous. The point is that we've learnt to deal with them. After the scare, I didn't see anything so extraordinary in our dynamics. Rachel was talking something with Sam and Mike. Brittany was talking to Quinn, Tina was in the car, not yet closing the doors, while Blaine was isolated for a moment. I thought it was weird when he punched the air and started screaming. Like very high!
"Hey." I went to him. "Blaine? Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine." Blaine said calm at first and then he literally exploded again. "No, I'm not fine because of him!" Blaine said loudly and pointed at Mike. "He is responsible for all of this. His madness. He's the one who nearly killed us back there. We shouldn't have left the bunker. But he... he... You're going to kill us all!"
I didn't need to be a doctor or a psychologist to realise that Blaine was having a panic attack. The problem was that everyone contained their emotions to such an extent that I really didn't know how to deal with Blaine's reaction.
"Blaine. Breathe."
I tried to speak calmly, but he wasn't listening. Blaine pointed his finger at Mike.
"I hate you! I hate you!"
"I'm not forcing anyone to be here." Mike replied and it was the turn of all of us to get between the two. Tina and the girls tried to restrain Mike, while Sam and I stayed with Blaine.
"Hey, pal. Calm down!" Sam stood in front of Blaine without touching him.
"I hate him. He's not a fucking leader. He is a scoundrel!" Blaine continued to rant.
"Blaine, get in the car, please." I said trying to be affable but firm.
"Let him take the car. If he wants to come back, I don't care." Mike raged.
"You should go to Canada on foot, you mother fucker!"
"Blaine, get in the car, now!" I said firmly as Sam helped me restrain him. "Blaine, now! Or I will be forced to crack one of your eggs."
"Come on, pal. This is not the time to freak out." Sam pushed him into the older truck.
But Blaine was visibly out of control. Sam had no choice but to punch Blaine hard in the jaw, knocking him out on the floor. Only then did we manage to restrain him and get him into the truck, and I got in with Blaine in the driver's seat.
Blaine started crying with rage, while I tried to remain calm. I stayed silent because if I spoke one more word, the smallest of sentences, Blaine might lose control again. Sam climbed into the passenger seat, leaving Blaine between us. I watched as Rachel took our truck keys, and Quinn and Brittany got in the car too. Mike and Tina were the last to get into the truck and we drove on.
I was driving cautiously, afraid that Blaine would have another attack and make me drive out of control. Sam cuddled with him for the first part of the journey to make sure Blaine stayed calm. I drove following the two cars in front of me. I was even curious to see the result of the explosion I made with Mike in the fuel tank right there in Cadiz, months ago, but it wouldn't be possible. It felt like it was a lifetime ago, anyway.
About 20 minutes later, another extraordinary thing happened: there were people at the north's neighboring village of Cadiz. I could see at least two women, three men and a child. It looked like they were involved in building something. A wall? Mike didn't stop to ask, and therefore neither did the girls and neither did I.
"Aren't we going to talk to them?" Blaine complained.
"If no one stopped, we won't either." I said.
"We need information, Santana!"
"I know, but none of our people stopped and neither I will. We have a travel itinerary to follow." I replied stating the obvious. "We don't know what kind of people they are."
"No, Santana. We didn't stop because Mike is an idiot. I don't know why you never challenged his leadership. He wasn't the one who kept us alive until now. It was Sam and I catching fishes, snakes and frogs. It was Joe and Tina farming in the green house, it was you and Rachel hunting and catching things in town, it was you fixing things that broke in the bunker, it was Quinn tending to our health. Now tell me why his word is worth more than ours? Why are his needs above ours?" The son of a bitch deliberately neglected to name Brittany and Mike so his argument wouldn't be invalidated.
"You just described why we lasted so long. Because we work as a team. Me, you, Sam... Mike and Brittany." I scored the forgotten names. "We all did our part. As a team, as a family."
"Exactly, a team that wasn't coached by him."
"We came to an agreement." I tried to make Blaine rationalize. "We needed a leader to organize us and Mike did that naturally. We don't always agree with his decisions, but we're alive this far, aren't we?"
"It wasn't thanks to him. You are a much more decent leader than he is."
"You say that to me, because I also voted against leaving the bunker."
"Because you think about the safety of the group. Mike was selfish to put one embryo above all of us."
"Perhaps. But it's too late to turn back now, and questioning his leadership won't do us any good right now."
"Dude." Sam tried to cheer up his best friend. "Just think about the handsome boyfriend you're going to get in Canada."
Sam's comment was so nonsensical and out of place that in other situations, we might have laughed. But the effect it had was to end our conversation. The thing was, I was trying really hard not to get carried away with Blaine's outrage, which was also my own, in a way.
It was another hour and a half of driving on roads that, as we advanced north and approached large urban centers like Akron, the scenery changed a little more, with abandoned cars here and there along the track. Just over a year into the apocalypse and we start to see the effects of abandonment and mother nature's return in certain places. We went through a village where there were no zombies, we went through another one that had a barrier, and it forced us to make a small trajectory deviation.
I thought Mike was going to end up in Lisbon, because that was the arrangement, but we saw that the city was also inhabited by people and not by zombies, and we passed parallel to a newly built wall next to the road. It was more than evident that the groups that survived were building fortresses to live in, and I thought to myself that walled cities would become a reality from now on, perhaps rescuing the concept of city-states that existed in Greece and other parts of the world from ancient history.
This wall had observation towers, like in prisons. We were passing close to it at a relatively low speed, when I saw that there was a person on one of those raised walls, and he started shooting at us. Instinctively, I accelerated. The boys screaming in my ear to get the hell out of there also helped me to slam my foot down on the accelerator. The answer about whether or not those people were hostile was given. One of the bullets went through the front window and another one hit the car's door. I didn't have much time to check it out, but apparently no one was hit. I accelerated in such a way that I overtook the girls' car. Mike also accelerated a lot. Fortunately, the wall wasn't very extensive, not even Lisbon.
There was a very discreet road sign indicating the exit for East Palestine. Luckily Mike saw it too. He entered the curve in an accelerated way, and I followed him. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that the girls were also following the convoy, but at a slower pace. It looked like their truck was having some difficulty steering. The distance between Lisbon and East Palestine was something like 30 miles, and I think we would do it in less time than we thought.
But halfway there, the girls' truck honked and stopped. I honked to Mike, stopped and maneuvered the car to get back to them. Mike also stopped his truck, but he didn't move back. When I came to the girls, I was scared about what I saw.
"Rachel was shot." Quinn screamed. "We need a place to treat her, Santana. And fast! She's losing blood."
"Sam, take the wheel." I said before getting out of the truck. "Rachel was shot!"
Quinn and Rachel made their way to the backseat, where Quinn started to get supplies to make a tourniquet around Rachel's arm. Apparently, she was shot in the left arm. The truck's window also had a bullet hole and the driver's seat was smeared with blood, as was the steering wheel. Rachel, even injured, managed to hold the car and take the girls to that point. She was badass. I turned on the ignition and the boys followed close behind.
"Let's stop at the next town, San. Find any hole for us to be in, because the bullet lodged in her arm, and I need you to help me."
Mike started driving again when he saw us approaching. I didn't want to look at him, I didn't care. I just passed his truck. East Palestine was ahead of us. It was mid-afternoon and we would still, in theory, have time to actually reach Pennsylvania and spend the night as planned in the national forest. I didn't even notice if the city had zombies or not. I saw a small house and stopped in front of it. Immediately, I grabbed my old revolver from my leg holster and went to search the place. Mike stopped the car, and asked me something, but honestly I didn't listen, I didn't understand or I didn't want to do either. The boys pulled up close behind, and they already jumped out of the car, rifles in hand.
Blaine and Sam were still kind of clumsy about these things, but I wasn't really up for making a deal with Mike. I signaled Sam and Blaine of where we should go to check the house. I chose a small place precisely to minimize this check, and to save time. We checked all the rooms and I saw absolutely nothing: no reaper, no zombie and no people. I waved the girls to get inside, and by now Mike should have known what happened.
"She was shot in two places on her left arm: her hand and her arm." Quinn reported as we picked up the dining room table to place Rachel on top of it. She must have been in so much pain, because Rachel was terribly quiet.
"Britt, get my stuff out of our truck." Quinn ordered as we examined the wounds.
"How is she?" Sam asked tearfully.
"Just do your job and lock this shit house." I ordered.
"Tina, help Rachel to be quiet. Hold her by the shoulders and don't let her move too much."
Quinn placed a piece of wood in Rachel's mouth. She didn't need an explanation. That was for pain. I had to do the most complex job, which was to remove the bullet that had lodged in Rachel's arm. I removed the cloth that Quinn had used to stop the bleeding. This was essential because the blood wasn't gushing out, and it made my job a lot easier. I took the surgical forceps, disinfected them with a little alcohol. Then I opened the wound a little and inserted the instrument, looking for the bullet. Rachel screamed, and Tina and Quinn were having some trouble calming her down.
"Quinn, I need the flashlights here."
She immediately grabbed our flashlights and shined it on the wound. A few attempts and I managed to pull out the bullet that was lodged in the bone.
"The bullet didn't go very deep, I think. The car window cushioned some of the impact. Let's clean and close, Quinn." I placed my hand on Rachel's forehead and smiled at her. "You're going to be fine, Rach. I promise you that we're going to give you some medicine that you will like."
Rachel nodded as the tears ran free down her face. She was so tired that she passed out. Quinn and I worked on cleaning Rachel's wounds, and when the blood had clotted, we closed. As I worked with the needle and thread, I smiled at Rachel, wanting to reassure her.
"I can make the scar look hot. I'm getting good at it... I think I might even be a plastic surgeon."
"I know, San." Quinn said in a weak voice. "I'm sorry to ask you to do this. I know you don't like this part of the job, but you know... my hand."
Yes, I knew that. Quinn complained that she felt a tingling sensation in the hand that had been injured by one of those monsters. Sometimes she also complained that her fingers gave a kind of shock and locked up for a while. I was sure that this was the result of a damaged nerve, but I couldn't do anything to improve Quinn's hand.
"Six hours." Mike announced, which meant total silence. Communicate now only in sign language.
Quinn and I helped Rachel up the stairs and onto one of the beds in the house.
"Can you stay?" Rachel asked in a whisper.
Quinn looked at me and I know she raised her eyebrow.
"Wouldn't you rather call Sam?"
"Forget it." Rachel said sullenly.
I sighed and said in sign language to Quinn.
"Tell Britt I'm staying up here. Everything is fine."
"Okay." Quinn signed back.
I took off my shoes, because the boots were awfully heavy on my feet, I also placed my revolver on the nightstand next to me, and sat down on the bed, next to Rachel. We didn't talk, we didn't do anything. I just stayed by her side and, if anything, I helped her eat when Quinn came upstairs with a mug of instant juice and cookies for our dinner.
I couldn't sleep well and only actually lay down next to Rachel when the tiredness in my body was already unbearable. That's when Brittany got in the room. She lay down on the bed quietly, slowly, and hugged me as my big spoon. It was insanely weird for me to sleep in my girlfriend's arms, being held and protected by her, with Rachel immediately beside me. The point was that there was nothing I could do. I didn't tell Brittany what Rachel confessed to feeling, and I never gave the little diva any hope. So I was still in that uncomfortable position, keeping all those things to myself.
...
I woke up still in my lover's arms. But what truly woke me up was the sound of a serious discussion taking place on the first floor. The impression I got was that everyone was screaming but Rachel, Brittany and me.
"I hate this." I got up and ran my hand over my face and through my hair.
"Let them fight over there, Sanny." Brittany tried to pull me back onto the bed.
"I can't." I looked over and saw that Rachel was awake. "Hey, Rach. How did you wake up?"
"I could hardly sleep."
"Can you move your arm? The fingers?"
"A little bit. But it huts."
"That is a good sign. That you can move your arm, I mean."
I got up and checked her bandages. Apparently, her wounds were healing well, and there were no signs of infection. I did a little cleaning with alcohol and put on new bandages. Then, I gave her a brief caress on her cheek and then grabbed my revolver. Quinn got in the room looking like she wanted to explode everything. She had the bag with Rachel's medication. We didn't have antibiotics, but we had generic anti-inflammatories and analgesics.
"Mike and Tina now want to go on their own, and Blaine says he's fine with that." Quinn summed up the discussion. "Sam and I are trying to mediate."
"With more screaming?"
"That too. One way or another, we leave in half an hour."
While Quinn was medicating Rachel, I went to the bathroom in the house. There was no more water in the faucet, but I used the toilet anyway. I looked in the mirror and I had Rachel's blood on my face. My clothes were stained with blood. I would have to find a place to wash up, and it certainly wouldn't be here. We went downstairs, only to find the boys full apart each other. Even the neutral Sam already seemed leaning towards Blaine. We drank some more industrialized juice, Tina cut the carrots and ate them raw. It wasn't my favorite food, but they say it was great for eyesight, right? We took our things, the boys refueled the cars, and we continued on the road. Mike and Tina remained isolated in their truck, Blaine and Sam took the older truck and we girls rode in the third truck, with me at the wheel, Brittany next to me, and Quinn and Rachel in the backseat.
What I found curious about East Palestine was that the city was literally empty. We didn't even see zombies hanging around there. I don't remember hearing reapers at night either. We saw that there was a derailed train on the way out of town, and I wonder what a horrible accident must have happened in that little place to the point of people leaving the city. Apocalypses aren't always global.
Silence reigned in that car. Rachel obviously should have been concentrating on her own physical condition, Quinn was visibly exhausted, as if she'd barely gotten a wink of sleep all night. Brittany was also tense, not least because she had a certain sensitivity towards the environment. Every time things got tense in the group, Brittany was the one who seemed to get the most upset.
Mike made a slightly confusing route, but by noon we were driving through the national forest. We stopped in the middle of the Pennsylvania Forest Reserve, on the banks of a stream. The only thing we heard was the sound of wind, running water and birds. Nothing more. We all took the opportunity to use the forest as a bathroom, and I took advantage of the waters of the stream, which were crystal clear, to wash myself. Meanwhile, Quinn boiled water so people could drink it in peace. She also had a powder that took an hour to set and make the water drinkable. Tina took the opportunity and cooked a super caloric goo, a kind of that those people who go hiking usually carry in their backpacks. What Tina really wanted, cooking for all of us, was a mission of peace.
"We left very late today. I don't know if we'll be able to sleep in New York's forest reserves." Mike showed us the map. "We'll get to New York, and maybe we can find some shelter somewhere near Cortland. Tomorrow, we need to leave really early because our priority will be to at least get close to New Hampshire. We are slower than expected and this isn't good."
"Of course, because Rachel being shot was a major inconvenience to your appointments." Blaine teased and I needed to put in a little diplomacy before the fight started all over again.
"Well, I think we shouldn't be in a hurry, Mike. It's better to move safely than to race against time." I pondered. "We want to make it to Canada alive, right?"
"Right." He said a little begrudgingly.
I understood that Mike and Tina were looking for a place to raise their child. They wanted some access, obviously, because having a child in the bunker would be like giving birth in the best medieval style to raise little savages. I really understood his point of view. But I also understood Blaine's point, because it was very similar to what I thought: in a doomed world, it's best to take good care of our own at a safe place.
"People are surrounding cities, not just militiamen." Quinn commented as she ate the goo. "We've only seen it in a few small towns, but are they doing it in big cities too?"
"The big cities were bombed." Mike analyzed. "I think it's unlikely. That hunter said that the people who survived in Columbus are living in the big buildings that were left standing, right? I think this is the trend: people migrate to smaller cities and start surrounding everything."
"It's either that or they'll live on islands." Quinn speculated.
"How many people must have died by now?" Sam speculated. "Do you think half of humanity succumb?"
"I don't have the slightest idea." Quinn answered. "I just know that I see more reapers and more zombies than I see people. And most of the people I met made me root for the Reapers."
"You have every reason to." I agreed with Quinn. "But there are still people with a modicum of decency out there."
Even with all our talking, Mike was still anxious to get back on the road soon. If it was my will, I would spend some more time in that place. But there we were back on the road. Rachel was sleepier, and that was natural given the amount of blood she'd lost. She got to lie in the backseat on Quinn's lap, who started stroking our local diva's hair.
"Does she have a fever?" I asked Quinn when I noticed in the rearview mirror that she was tucking the thermometer under Rachel's arm.
"The temperature is at the limit of normal. The meds are doing their part, and Rachel needs to do hers."
I saw the weather and sighed. It was building up a storm for that night. Mike took one of his crazy detours to avoid crossing a big city and half an hour later we were in New York Estate. I looked back in the rearview mirror and Rachel was still sleeping. Too bad, because she would want to see that. It wasn't the city, because that was bombed and was hundreds of miles away, but it was still New York, right?
"Remember when we came to compete at nationals in New York?" I asked the girls. "From when Quinn was trying to screw Finchel all over the place and ended up cutting her hair?" I started to laugh, breaking a little of the somber atmosphere of that day. The truth was, I wanted to distract myself as much as possible, because the rain that was threatening to fall was no joke.
"Are you talking about that time you offered yourself to make me feel better?" Quinn snapped.
"I never offered myself to you, Fabray."
"Because you know you wouldn't stand a chance." Quinn said with that smug look that only she knew how to make.
"I doubt it. I would get in your pants if I really wanted to."
"You're pretty, Santana, but you're not all that seductive. In fact, most of the time it's quite the opposite."
"Really Fabray? So I was hallucinating every time you checked me out in the locker room after physical training, when we hit the showers… naked?"
"Everybody got naked in the locker room, Santana."
"You totally like to check me out."
"You're terribly pretentious, Lopez. I don't know how Brittany puts up with you." It was so obvious that Quinn checked me out at school. I don't think Quinn is gay or in the closet, but I think she'd totally be open to experiment someday.
"Oh babe, nevermind because they don't know what they're saying or what they're missing. You're fabulous and really hot." Brittany placed her hand on my leg and her hand slipped slightly near the center of my legs.
"Britt Britt…" I got my girlfriend's attention. "We need to behave."
"I know." Brittany smiled and winked at me with those unbelievable blue eyes.
The first drop of rain landed on my windshield and what followed was no joke. Suddenly the rest of the day turned to night, and I couldn't see much of the road except for Mike's truck's hazard lights. I also turned mine on so the boys could better guide themselves.
Mike drove slowly until we found a village. There were no lights in the houses, so we understood that it was a great indication that there was no one there. We stopped the car. Mike was the one who grabbed his gun and ran into one of the houses. He tried to open the door, but to our surprise, a guy opened it pointing an assault rifle, of those models that only the army would be authorised to use. Mike raised his arms and obviously I couldn't hear anything from inside the car. But I already positioned my revolver and I was ready to cover his back.
"Britt, open the window." I pointed my revolver to the guy.
"San, you aren't as good as Rachel on this stuff." Quinn yelled at me, and I saw that Rachel was sitting up.
"I'm no Rachel, but I'm the best on this after her." Not true. Mike was better than me. Okay, I could be the third best shooter in the group, maybe the fourth, because Blaine was very good too. But I didn't flinch. Not me and not Rachel.
I started to get tense, because Mike was talking to the guy with his gun on the ground, hands up and the torrential rain continued to fall.
Until something unexpected happened. The man started to walk along with Mike to their truck. They said something to Tina, and then they moved on to ours. I got my revolver down as Mike approached with the man. Then Mike pointed to Rachel.
"See? I speak the truth. We're just passing through, but we need a place to stay for the night. We don't want anything from you. Just a place to spend the night. My wife is pregnant, and my friend is hurt. This is my family and I just want them safe."
"Okay. I know one place."
The man got into Mike's truck and he drove us to a small house with Post Office written on the front. We parked around this house and we ran inside. Quinn followed Rachel, placing her coat in front of her injured arm. Once at the shelter, the man looked at us and introduced himself.
"My name is John Alboreto, and I am the pastor of this community."
"Community?" Sam asked in surprise. "From an entire village."
"Yes, of an entire village." He smiled. John had an Italian last name, but he looked very white American. "Our water is functional, and so is our energy, although we don't turn anything on at night. The town's post office obviously no longer operates, but this place is safe. If you've survived this far, it's because you know what you have to do. There's a bathroom back there if you need it. Good luck guys. See you tomorrow."
John said goodbye and ran out into the rain towards his house. The post office was really minimal. There was a single restroom with a toilet and sink, and a space reserved for parcels. The main room had a counter and an office desk. There was nothing comforting there. The boys barricaded the doors, we closed one of the windows and we kept quiet. We could hear the heavy rain falling outside, with occasional thunder and lightning. I sat on the floor next to my girlfriend. Everyone did the same. Mike sat on the floor hugging Tina. Sam tried to warm up to Rachel, Blaine leaned against Quinn and I naturally joined Brittany. The rain showed no signs of easing and continued into the night. With nothing else to do, I just closed my eyes and tried to nap.
...
The rain handled well that morning. My body was so sore from sleeping sitting on the floor and that's why I had a hard time getting up. I moved the table in front of the door and was surprised when I saw John and other people nearby. In broad daylight, I could see that he wasn't a small man, and I was afraid to see that he was accompanied by two other men who were also so big that none of us would be able to take them down in an one-on-one fist fight - not even Sam, who was the physically strongest of our gang. Anyway, it wouldn't do to get into trouble with those guys.
"Good morning." I nodded at those men, then John walked over.
"I hope the night wasn't too bad." John said in a pleasant tone in his speech. Almost as if he was apologizing for his treatment of us.
"We had a shelter and a bathroom. It was more than enough." I extended my hand to him. "My name is Santana Lopez."
"John Alboreto." He repeated the presentation. "This is Roger Booth and this is David Kreese. They are this village security chiefs."
"Interesting. We're coming from Ohio and most of the towns we passed those residents had a wall under construction around a portion of them. But here… nothing?"
"The game is new, but it has rules and we learned them pretty quickly." John said with a smirk on his face. "I came here to invite you to have breakfast with us in the conference building. There's a full bathroom that you can use. We would like to exchange information. It's not every day that non-hostile Ohioans show up here."
"OK, thank you." I could be being stupidly suspicious, which was indeed my nature, but I thought these people had ulterior motives.
"Good morning." Mike was right behind me, Thank god!
"Mike, good morning. I was talking to your friend Santana about the invitation we make to your group..."
I walked away and left they talking. Inside the old post office, the others were already stretching. Sam used the bathroom while Quinn checked Rachel's bandage. I took a look at our work.
"It's dry." Quinn cheered. "Not a bit of secretions." She said while passing the Merthiolate. "It's a good thing you're in good health after all, Rach."
"It still hurts a lot." Rachel grumbled.
"Externally it will heal quickly, but internally it will take a while." I warned. "Don't make any sudden movements with your arm so you don't open the stitches."
"Who hasn't been wounded by a bullet in this family?" Blaine said trying to sound both funny and optimistic.
"We got hurt a lot over the last year and for a variety of reasons." I said without wanting to show emotions. Considering everything we'd been through, it was a miracle we'd still kept a group of eight people alive this long.
"Guys, we've been invited to breakfast." Mike walked in and said excitedly. "Whoever wants to, bring a backpack because we can even take a shower with hot water!"
There was a celebration of majority, but I held back my enthusiasm. Anyway, not only did I grab my bag from the car, as I also took a look at my revolver in my leg holster. You never knew. We arrived at the building, and there were four women setting up a counter with food. They served us tea, pancakes, apples and butter. I confess eating pancakes with a little butter was a dream. We ate very well in the bunker, even though we had only one meal a day. I was no longer used to waking up and filling my stomach at that time of the morning.
One of the women, who had big, bulging green eyes and very straight black hair, smiled at me privately. Not the smile of someone who was flirting, but someone who was just trying to be nice. I smiled back and approached her, and that's when I noticed the huge bruise on her arm. Of course, that could be a bruise caused by an accident, or it could also be the result of an assault.
"Do you need help with anything?" I asked to be polite.
"Oh no!" She smiled awkwardly and tugged at her shirt sleeve, which leads me to believe the second possibility was very likely. Unfortunately for that woman, we weren't interested in getting justice for anyone. "Feel free to serve yourself. You are our guests."
"I am Santana Lopez."
"I am Bia, from Beatrix, Bia Alboreto."
"Is Pastor John your husband?" Bia nodded. I looked at John and frowned. So the well-meaning pastor probably beats his wife between the four walls? Why does this not surprise me? "Have you been married a long time?"
"Seven years. We have three babies."
"Oh… congratulations." Three babies in seven years? Wow! Maybe these people didn't watch much tv either.
"Are you married to any of these young men?" She asked almost innocently.
"Practically married to that blonde girl with blue eyes over there."
"Oh!" Bea was startled. Obviously, she didn't have much contact with gay people, which doesn't surprise me considering she was a pastor's wife and lived in a village of 50 people. "Well… I hope you like the food."
While we ate, Mike was our rapporteur. Sometimes I rolled my eyes because he overemphasized certain things about us and made Ohio look like the setting for a horror movie that wasn't meant to be. Were the dangers many and diverse? It's a fact, just as it was also a fact that we spent most of our time doing routine things.
"How did you keep the village intact without walls?" I asked John. "Okay, it's not big, but we went through similar places in Ohio that became ghost towns."
"We were very worried when we got the news that the beast had arrived in our region." John said. "It started to devastate Wellsville, but something unexpected happened. Vivaldi."
"Vivaldi?" Brittany reacted to the unusual name. "Like that musician?"
"Yes, dear, Vivaldi worked at the crematorium. On a particularly bad day, because he lost his girlfriend, Vivaldi had a little too much to drink and threw the dog he hated into the oven. The animal's bark attracted the beasts... well, he closed the oven door and cremated the dog and seven of the beasts at once. When he told what he did, the city's survivors had the idea of making sound traps and small animals as bait, and began to eliminate about ten beasts a day without having to spend ammunition. Throughout the day, they eliminated a lot off beasts. People from neighboring towns began to create similar traps. We know that the people of Olean were also inspired by this idea to kill hundreds of beasts at once by setting fire to a pavilion. When winter came, the beasts migrated, but the community took the opportunity to build permanent traps. Every night, in these cities, they lure the beasts that are in the region with sound traps, and sometimes they even use small animals as bait, and the fire does the rest of the job. We benefit greatly from this. Our community was able to support itself because the attack of beasts nowadays is very rare. Even so, we didn't let our guard down."
"You mean this region wasn't heavily impacted?" Mike asked hopefully.
"In the beginning yes, when the seals were opened, and when the beast arrived here almost the next month, the impact was terrible. But now people are rebuilding cities, society." John said in an almost emotional tone.
"We know that Wellsville people are in need of young and willing people to restore the structure of the city." Said another man. "Why don't you go over there and talk to him? The town leader's name is Devon Banks."
I sighed because I knew we were going to have one more argument ahead. Honestly, I didn't know what to think. I was getting tired. According to John's information, Wellsville was only 11 minutes away from that small village. Mike was torn. He was the one who would like to find civilization again, right? This seemed like the best chance in a long time. Except that I was Alma Lopez's granddaughter, who always said that when alms are large, the saint is suspicious.