I woke up that night with Tina shaking me.
"What?" I said groggy. I was naked under the covers. Brittany and I were after a night of pleasure to celebrate our engagement.
"Wear your clothes. We need to leave now!"
Brittany and I jumped out of that single bed and we didn't care if Tina was seeing us naked at that moment. The situation was unexpected, but Tina had already seen me naked on a number of more mundane occasions, as the result of living in the same environment for so many months.
"What happened?" I started to dress quickly in front of Tina.
"Mike and Blaine came in and said we need to leave now. We got five minutes" Tina said and left the room.
"What time is it?" Brittany asked me already practically dressed.
"One-thirty in the morning." I checked my watch.
I put on my boots and tied my hair in a ponytail. I ran into the next room and saw Quinn, Sam and Rachel rolling up their sleeping bags. I grabbed my backpack, my revolver and pulled up my pants to put on my holster. Once everything was in order in a matter of a few minutes, we headed downstairs. I had a lot of questions to ask, but in situations like this, it was better to act first and ask questions later. I grabbed the truck key and tossed the other one to Sam. I saw that Mike and Blaine hadn't gotten out of their truck, and I thought something was very wrong.
"We need to pick up the kids." I told Sam, who agreed with me.
I got into the truck along with Quinn, Rachel and Brittany. Sam and Tina occupied the other one. We stopped in front of what we thought was the house where the boys were, and by a happy coincidence, they were awake, looking out the window. I yelled from the car's window.
"You have 10 seconds to come with us, or we leave you here."
"We will stay." Owen said with conviction.
"There is no future for you here." I tried to argue.
"But our parents are in town. I can't leave them behind to go with you. We literally met yesterday."
"Owen... Kate... it's dangerous here."
"We've done well so far."
"San." Quinn caught my attention. "They've looked after themselves so far, and they've done well. We don't even know for sure where we're going. Maybe they're safer here than with us."
"But they are just kids…"
"I know, San, still they are old enough to take care themselves."
I wasn't totally convinced, but we didn't have time either.
"Be careful and good luck, kids."
I started driving to catch up with Mike. I was scared and apprehensive because night meant death. It was the realm of the reapers and, in fact, I could see some of these creatures trying to throw themselves at the cars on the road as we left the village. Another point of apprehension was that I had never driven at night on an unlit road, outside of an urban environment. Having a first experience under those circumstances wasn't easy at all.
I was driving the last truck of our train, which was fine with me for having a safe reference point. Mike made no move to stop, at least until daybreak. We couldn't even stop if we wanted to, as we would run the risk of having the car surrounded and attacked by a bunch of reapers.
"Did Mike say anything about what happened?" I finally asked the girls.
"I was on the vigil." Rachel said. "I was surprised when I saw a pickup truck parked in front of the house. Mike just yelled at us to run and leave. Obviously, I would believe him without question at these situations. That's why Sam immediately put our things in the truck, while we tidied up our other things and woke you up."
An hour and a half before daylight breaks, Mike's truck stopped and we stopped behind it. He and Blaine ran out, and each got into a pickup truck. Mike got into the front car with Sam and Tina. Blaine limped over and got into our truck. As we were in an urban center, we saw reapers running. There was barely time for Blaine to got in, and the first of them threw itself against our truck. Sam took off at a run, and I followed him. It was unbelievable how many reapers came out of that shitty town.
"We ran out of fuel." Blaine explained why they abandoned the car. At least they were in a pickup truck without our resources.
Even though it was still very dark, I glanced at him in the rearview mirror and saw that he looked like he'd taken a beating.
"What happened? Why are you limping and looking like you've been hit by a car?"
"I've been in a fight." Blaine tried to explained.
"Obviously."
"They imprison reapers." Blaine said in an emphatic and very indignant tone. "Those guys don't just kill reapers like the Nazis. They also imprison these creatures. It's a militia that runs the city, but they're from Olean, and they took over Wellsville because of a steel factory and a mining company. It's how they're dominating the region: controlling the energy basically. They're trading steel for other militia-owned amenities in Buffalo."
"What the hell is in Buffalo?"
"I don't know. It seems that those who survived took refuge on an island there, and on that island there is a pharmaceutical industry."
"I've seen it all." Quinn grumbled. "We went back to the era of barter. Medicines have high value in today's world. A simple aspirin can make the difference between living and dying. Joe might not have died if we had antibiotics."
"Okay, they're bad. What I'm really interested in is why you got beat up?"
"Because I was asking too many questions. They were treating us relatively well, but I was asking too many questions, and it clearly bothered them. I ventured out at night, even on the first day, and I discovered things. They caught me spying and it all happened so fast. They beat me up and Mike helped beat me up to keep his cover. I was thrown into a cell along with other people. Mike rescued me at night and that's when we got away."
"What about your leg, Blaine? All I see is blood in your jeans." Quinn said.
"That's because of a switchblade." Blaine explained.
"Did they stick a switchblade in your leg?" Rachel was perplexed.
"Mike stuck a switchblade in my leg."
I was torn about how I felt about Mike at that moment. I would imagine that he tried to create a character to fit the militia and that Blaine didn't play the game. I'd punch Blaine if I had to, but then sticking a switchblade in his leg would be too much.
The day was dawning and we passed through a small town. We didn't actually go into it to find out if it was a cemetery with zombies or if there were people. But according to the road map, we were very close to Ferris Lake Wild Forest, so our road would head east to cross into Vermont, where we would start heading northeast again. We stopped at a farm area to refuel both trucks. While Quinn was taking care of Blaine's wound, I took the opportunity to have a chat with Mike.
"So what happened?" Even though Blaine explained it in a hasty way, I wanted to hear the story from Mike's lips.
"Blaine was right, and honestly I don't want to discuss that right now." Mike said a little irritated.
"Okay, Mike. I'm not going to discuss the fact that you stuck a switchblade in his leg."
Mike grumbled and pretended to concentrate on the task of refueling the cars.
"Without the third truck, we might have fuel to get to Canada. But I don't know if we'll make it to the island."
"There are still places where we can stop and check if it has fuel."
"Yes, there are many." It wasn't just irritation. Mike was frustrated and perhaps disappointed with himself. "Guys, anyone who wants to go to the bathroom, the time is now. We are only going to stop now after lunch time."
I didn't know if I was more frustrated than exhausted. The trip was taking longer than expected, and we were just getting screwed. At that point we had Blaine and Rachel with major injuries. We faced countless life and death situations. We met two teenagers and left them behind. Honestly, I was afraid of what was waiting for us.
The big white elephant in the room was that I was bitterly sorry. I should have stayed in the fucking bunker with Brittany. I would be so much happier and so much less exhausted. Because, in all honesty, I was starting to think that this story of society and civilization was overrated. I was starting to agree with the hermits, survivalists and all those weirdos who preferred isolation to having to deal with the shit of a life in society. Not that I would advocate complete isolation, but I was more and more convinced that our little society was just the right size: we had a structure, a dynamic, we each had our respective sexual partners, except for Blaine. But I'm pretty sure sex was the least of Blaine's worries or priorities. So much so that he voted to stay.
Then, we were back to the road and Blaine stayed with us in the truck. He was in shorts, with the mid-thigh wrapped in a bandage. Quinn said she closed the cut after tried to disinfect it as best she could, and wrapped it in gauze before wrapping the bandage over it. It wasn't just the hole in Blaine's leg. He had one eye completely closed, like Rocky Balboa after a fight. His other eye, the one he could see, was black. Blaine had his eyebrow split open, he had bruise marks all over his body.
"All this because you saw imprisoned reapers and people trapped?" I asked Blaine.
"They were being too nice to two strangers, you know? I asked about that trap, and they showed me the place they used to kill and burn reapers. One of them, Matt, said that they had killed over a thousand reapers with this method, and also killed every zombie that was walking around. That's why the region was safer."
"Which isn't true, or we wouldn't have reapers jumping in our trucks when we got out of that hole." Quinn said with the same bored tone she cultivated. "It's not that hard to understand: young reapers are stupid and too aggressive, but apparently they learn something over time."
"That's true: reapers aren't so dumb and have learned to avoid certain places." I theorized with Quinn.
"Do you really think so?" Brittany was afraid about this theory.
"Of course. Reapers lose their ability to reason, let's say, more refined reason. They lose their verbal capacity, their clothes, their body hair, but they still reason in some capacity and we already knew that." Quinn theorized. "But after they complete this physical transformation, after a year maybe, I think they start to evolve again."
"I think it's like those dog's conditioning training sessions." Blaine theorized. "When you shock a dog if it does something it shouldn't, after a while it starts to avoid it."
"Okay, so reapers started to avoid that city because of the trap. I can accept that theory for now." Brittany pondered. "I don't like it."
"Also, because the population there has declined because of it. There's nothing to hunt or eat." Blaine speculated.
"Not to mention we're heading into fall and reapers are going to start migrating south." I completed Blaine's assumptions.
"Anyway, Mike was excited about the city and the traps. Until I decided to snoop around town. When the militia caught me, on the one hand I understand why he turned his back on me and let them beat me, he was smart in that sense. But…" Blaine hesitated to continue for a moment. "But I was the one who got hurt. Even though I was right, even warning him, I got hurt." Blaine was really mad about Mike, and I understood his feelings perfectly. Mike was acting conflicted those days. "The people who were imprisoned... they were the ones who helped me with what little they could. They gave me water at least. When Mike released me that night, those people ran away too. Some asked to come with us, but Mike refused to help more than set them free."
"Those imprisoned people…" Rachel asked. "Did they say anything else?"
"It was these people who told me about Buffalo. What I do know is that these people were forced to work, and some of them were taken out of prison throughout the day."
"Militia of devil assholes!" I said angrily. Deep down, I wished Mike had freed Owen and Kate's parents. It would be a happy ending for them. "This part of the trip is going to be a long one." I warned my passengers. "Quinn, you should get some sleep, because I'm going to need you to take the wheel so I can nap a little bit."
"When you get tired, I'll take the wheel." Quinn agreed.
Still that morning, we were at Vermont. I couldn't take another hour of driving, because I was too exhausted to maintain proper concentration after had driven all night. That's why I asked Quinn to switch with me since Blaine and Rachel were injured and Brittany wasn't a good driver. I slept leaning against my girlfriend.
…
When Brittany woke me up, we were in New Hampshire. Quinn had parked the truck for refueling. I ran my hand over my face and my body was a little sore from spending all this time in my fiancée's arms while dozing. I felt exhausted, which was natural for driving the entire night and a good chunk of the morning. I got out of the truck and stretched out my body, I drank some water and took advantage of the woods to pee. I looked out over the mountainous landscape and for someone who lived in a relatively flat place like Ohio was, I always thought that view was magnificent.
"Where are we?" I asked Mike.
"We are in the middle of a national park. According to the map, we are on this road from here." Mike showed me the approximate point where we were. "There's a ski resort a few miles ahead from here."
"Ski resort, mountains, winding road… I think I'll get ready to drive because we're going to be making a lot of stops with someone throwing up."
"Tina asked to stop already."
"Was there any eventuality?"
"No. Nothing unusual. We saw some abandoned cars, a zombie or two. We saw an inhabited village, but we didn't stop to ask questions."
As we would face a mountainous road, we shouldn't eat anything until we crossed the most critical section. I spoke especially for myself, because my stomach was fragile in that way. I wasn't one of those people who got sick in a car, but these winding roads were another matter. They were as nauseating as boats, if you ask me. I took the wheel back and we made some rearrangements in the car distribution. Mike, Tina, Sam and Rachel decided to take one car, while me, Brittany, Quinn and Blaine took the other.
"I have never been here." I confessed to others. "According to my family, Florida was the only place worth vacationing here in the United States. I've been in all Orlando's parks, but I've never been in Disneyland"
"Have you never seen a mountain with white peak before?" Blaine asked me.
"Nope."
"I used to vacation in the mountains because my uncle owned a resort in Utah." Quinn said with some disdain. "It was the only place my mother seemed to be really free. I hated skiing, but my mom and Frannie were naturals. I was never very well coordinated with skis, and because of that my sister kept acting like a troll. I think that's why I hate skiing, or any of those winter sports."
"I have never skied." Brittany smiled at Quinn. "But I loved sledding when I was a kid. All the snow I've ever seen has basically been from Ohio, and as you know, there's no mountain to ski on, but there are some really nice hills to play with the sled."
"My parents went to a ski resort for their honeymoon, but that was because my father was an amateur athlete, and he wanted to impress my mother." Blaine explained.
"My parents met in a barn." Brittany liked to talk about her family's quirky things. "My mother was a journalist and she met my father when she went to do a story about a pumpkin festival. My father was one of the exhibitors, because his family came from China to be farmers in Ohio."
"Is your father Chinese?" Blaine was surprised.
"Adoptive father." I explained better. I also had some doubts when I met Brittany's family because she never mentioned that she had an adoptive father.
"What about your biological father?" Blaine asked.
"He was a German."
"Is that all you know about him?"
"Pretty much."
"Were you ever curious to know more about him?" Blaine seemed interested in the story.
"No. My mother met my biological father while she was backpacking through Europe. They had drunk sex and my mother only found out that she was pregnant when she had already coming back to the United States. She only knows his first name. It's Hans, and that's all."
"That is peculiar." Blaine smiled. "It's quite charming that your adoptive father is chinese. Can you speak Chinese?" He was curious.
"Cèsuǒ zài nǎlǐ." Brittany responded.
"What does that mean?"
"Where is the bathroom?" Wants to know? It was all Brittany knew how to speak Chinese.
I laughed a little bit, because Mr. Pierce was part of a first-generation American-Chinese immigrant family. The most curious thing was that he spoke little Chinese and didn't even care. He even dropped his Chinese last name when he married Whitney. Mr. Pierce was a very funny figure, and Brittany got a lot from him. I found it unbelievable because I had to introduce myself to him every time I went to Brittany's house, as if he had the memory of a golden fish. I thought he did it just to torment me, because he once caught me kissing his daughter in a very non-delicate way. But later I found out that he was actually a Forrest Gump with better verbal articulation. Mr. Pierce had a shop that sold bicycles and accessories without even knowing where the ledger was. Even so, he was considered a successful merchant in Lima. Unbelievable.
The conversation between us was friendly, and I learned a few more things about Blaine and Quinn. Our dynamic of recounting silly details of our past lives made the journey less arduous. It was a form of entertainment to learn that Blaine had a crush on Michael Jackson when he was a kid, something he had in common with Sam. Blaine came from a wealthy family, and he almost went to a prep school in Indianapolis. He was also the only one of us who had ever travelled abroad. I myself, with a whole family of immigrants, never went beyond the borders of the United States. Quinn was from Cincinnati, and she confessed to being a chubby child who wore braces on her teeth. Obviously, Quinn is Lucy Fabray's middle name, and she said she hated her name so much that she made everyone in her family at the schools she went to call her Quinn Fabray.
"Actually, after finishing high school, my plan was to change my name. I was going to eliminate Lucy from my life once and for all." She confessed. "I don't think I need to do that anymore since there are no records of it anywhere."
"Does it really not exist?" Blaine wondered.
"I don't think so. If this new country in the north really exists, I think everyone who enters it will be starting from scratch in some way. Then I'll automatically be Quinn Fabray and that'll be that!"
We arrived at a village called Lincoln and, to our surprise, we saw that part of it was walled. We had enough trauma from hostile walled cities, so we drove through that town without stopping, and continued the winding road, with a quick stop for Tina and Rachel to throw up. Blaine, who was physically very weak, also couldn't resist and we had to stop for him to throw up. Honestly, if I hadn't been the driver, I would have gotten sick on that road too.
We felt obliged to stop in a town called Conway. Not only because our schedule was at its limit, but the weather as also terrible. Mike went to a random residential street. The rain was already starting to fall, and it brought with it a horrible wind. Mike is already out of the truck, rifle in hand. I went down too and so did Sam. I had no warm coat on at the time, and the rain was hitting my skin in such a way that it felt like it was going to cut through it. I was so cold.
The one-story house was just closed. We went in and made the rounds. There were two things to notice about the house: the first was that it was clean, in the sense that it was barely furnished. The second was that we killed three reapers inside. The problem wasn't eliminating those monsters, because we solved that quickly. The problem was, we also learned that reapers inside houses meant infestation of the area.
We had barely eliminated the reapers, and I saw Rachel, Tina, Blaine and Brittany running inside. They didn't wait for our positive signal because the threat was significant outside.
"Reapers?" I asked.
"More like a hurricane." Brittany said. She wasn't exaggerating, as the gust of wind was frightening.
"Reapers don't like the cold." Sam said as he and Mike threw the bodies out of the house. "We know that they are also not very used to the rain. That might be good for us, as these creatures won't want to die of hypothermia.
"Guys, routine!" I holstered my revolver closely.
Routine was to close windows, barricade doors and be quiet.
"I forgot to get our food." Tina said urgently.
"I will get it." Brittany stepped forward.
"No, it's a very strong rain." I reasoned with the group. "We can eat tomorrow. We don't know how these beasts can behave at this hour looking for shelter."
Rachel seemed to agree, as did Blaine, but Quinn was uneasy.
"I forgot my medicine bag. Rachel and Blaine still need attention. I don't want your wounds to get infected when the treatment is working."
"Okay, I will get your bag and the food." I was a volunteer.
I'm going with you to cover your back." Sam also volunteered and I would never argue with him about it, because it really was safer to do these things in pairs.
The weather was really bad, but the worst was the wind. I saw a reaper moving down the street, which wasn't surprising because there were bodies in front of our house, and the weather was so dark it felt like it was night. It came running towards me, but because of the wind, Sam had to wait for it to get close to shoot without missing. The very strong wind that could displace the bullet in a long distance. And that's what Sam did while I was looking for our stuffs inside the truck. This place was getting dangerous, so I grabbed Quinn's bag and the food as quickly as possible and headed back inside.
"Reapers." I gestured as soon as I placed the two bags on the floor with Sam right behind me.
Mike blocked the doors with what little furniture was available, and we invoked total silence. Quinn got to work on Blaine and Rachel's bandages, while Tina and Brittany prepared the caloric goo that tasted like paper with vanilla essence.
"I have a strange feeling." Sam gestured and left just as a gust of wind pressed against the window frame.
"These houses withstand this bad weather." Mike tried to assure. "It's a recurring situation in the northern states."
I didn't say anything, but it's the same logic used for residents of Florida or the Caribbean: it's not because these regions are hit annually by hurricanes that construction follows accordingly, with technologies to withstand winds of over 100km/h. I would trust that building in case of a blizzard. Not so sure in a case of a storm. Tina distributed the goo. I confess that I was so apprehensive, that I practically swallowed that food and then I got a horrible burning in my stomach.
Mike called me over to review the road map and suggested a route.
"We only have one and a half tanks of fuel left in each car." Mike warned me. "We're going to make it to Canada, but we're going to have to look for fuel because I don't know if we're going to make it to the coast."
"Okay."
"We can make it this far." He pointed to a Canadian city called Fredericton that was on the map.
What I didn't like about those maps wasn't the fact that we had to spend math to calculate along with the scales to know the real distances. What I hated most was that we had no idea of the size of cities. With a little knowledge from geography classes, I was able to recognize the big cities in American states and the most populous urban centers in neighboring countries. I knew Ohio, I knew the major American cities, and I knew that major Canadian cities were Toronto, Montreal, Ottawa, and Vancouver. I knew about Winnipeg because it hosted the Pan American games once, and my dad had a souvenir keychain from that event. But what to expect from Fredericton? I had no idea. It was like playing the lottery and being too optimistic.
"Okay." It was all that could answer for Mike's plans.
A gust of wind pressed against the window once more, and Sam grabbed a bookshelf and placed it across the window. That house wasn't safe at all, which reinforced the need to stay quiet.
"Santana takes the first shift. I do the second shift." Mike sighed to the others. "I need three volunteers for the remaining shifts."
Sam, Quinn and Brittany raised their arms, which was only natural since everyone else was injured, and Tina, being pregnant, acquired certain privileges. Everything was settled, and everyone was adjusting themselves as they could on the floor of the house. We were all in one room, for security reasons. I saw that Rachel snuggled against Sam, Quinn got some comfort with Blaine and Brittany (while I was standing awake), Mike obviously got Tina.
We were doing everything right. I saw that most of the people were awake, or just had their eyes closed because the noise of the storm against the house was very uncomfortable, and not infrequently the windows were shaking. Until a window burst. The noise caused everyone to get up without me having to wake them up. The broken window was in a room that we had closed, so I was in doubt whether I should open the door to check or not the damage. Mike stayed beside me, both of us with guns drawn. Then he turned to the group and said in sign language.
"Take the stuffs. Get ready to run."
Mike looked at me and he took the lead. But even before he touched the door, the handle began to shake. Reapers can open doors as long as they are not locked. Sam unlocked the main door and the noise made Mike jump on the inner door and grab the handle. I left Mike and ran outside. There was a group of reapers prowling around that part of town, probably looking for shelter in the houses. I shot at the closest ones, helped by Sam and by Rachel, who, even with a good arm, the right one, was still shot pretty fine.
"Get inside the trucks! Now!" I ordered.
Things were a little messed up. Mike came out of the house shooting the reaper and while I was helping Blaine get into the truck, since he had his leg compromised. I saw another reaper, who came out of nowhere, jumping on Brittany's back. It all happened so fast. I screamed, Mike kicked the reaper, Rachel shot it, and so did I. I don't know who killed it, I just know that monster dropped dead while Mike helped my girl. In the middle of the wind, torrential rain, poor visibility and attacks, I honestly didn't know for sure what was going on with 100% clarity. I managed to get into the truck along with Sam, Blaine and Quinn. Everyone else got into the other vehicle. Reapers would crash into the car, and it was very confusing why those creatures should be sheltering, preventing themselves from getting hypothermia, right? Wasn't that why they migrated south during the winter?
"Santana, get out of here." Quinn screamed.
"I can not see anything."
"Let me drive!"
With some confusion inside the car, Quinn and I switched places, me going into the passenger seat, and her into the driver's seat. We saw the other truck pulling away slowly, and Quinn followed the car.
"You should check Brittany out to see if she was hurt." I practically demanded.
"Of course! It's very simple to change cars in the middle of a storm with reapers jumping on our backs." Quinn drove very slowly because the car in front was also very slow, regardless of the fact that there were reapers literally trying to latch onto our cars.
I didn't mean to sound stupid, but I was in emotional turmoil. I just wanted to know if Brittany was okay, if she was hurt, or if it was just a scare.
"Did any of you get hurt?" Blaine asked the group.
"I don't think so." Sam replied
"That's a check we should do later." Quinn said tensely. "Now shut up. I need to concentrate."
As we advanced, the reapers seemed to give up on grappling. The road was extremely dangerous, with many fallen branches. After half an hour of pure tension, this time without reapers glued to our cars, the rain seemed to ease up a bit, visibility improved slightly and we entered another city. Mike parked the car at a gas station and at the first opportunity, taking advantage of the fact that we had a precarious roof against the rain, I got out of the car and went to the other one.
"Brittany!" I knocked on the other car's door. "Are you okay?"
"Santana, I'm fine." She answered me by lowering the car window. "Get back in the other car, please!"
She didn't even have to ask. Quinn followed behind me and pulled me into the truck again.
"Are you insane?" Quinn screamed at me.
"I needed to see if she was okay."
"It could have reapers around, you crazy bitch."
"Britt is not fine. I can tell you." I said fighting with Quinn. "If I can't be with her, then you need to go there and take care of her."
"I will, San. But you need to stay here and calm down. Promise?"
"I won't stay calm, but I won't intrude as long as you go in that car and take care of my girl."
"Give me my fucking bag." She told Blaine, who was in the backseat.
Quinn got out of the car again and ran to the front one. Sam got into the driver's seat. He smiled awkwardly, disconcerted.
"Quinn is checking everything out, okay?"
I didn't answer. I was so apprehensive because I was afraid that Brittany had been hurt, I was stressed because of the storm, the night, everything. The day began to dawn, but the rain wouldn't go away though it was weaker than before. Mike got out of the truck. I saw that he tried the pump manually, and called Sam to help him, because there was a little fuel left, and every drop would be crucial for the rest of our trip. I took advantage of daylight (more or less) to got out the truck and see how Brittany was doing.
"Hey." I opened the truck's door. "How are you?" I asked in as gentle a tone as possible.
"Better." Brittany answered me with a thin, lackluster smile.
She and Quinn were alone in the backseat, and I saw that Quinn was wearing surgical gloves, stuffing bandages into a plastic bag. I also noticed that the smell of alcohol and antiseptic was very strong inside that truck. I tried to kiss my girl but Brittany stopped me.
"No Santana."
"Why?" My heart was racing and I already had tears in my eyes. "Did the reaper seriously injure you?"
"It was just a scratch." Quinn explained. "The clothes protected the worst from happening, but I think it's prudent for us to find a place in this city or the next one to better observe. If Brittany doesn't show symptoms after 24 hours, we can say she hasn't been infected. I did my best, San. I disinfected everything possible, I gave what we had of antibiotics to Brittany. Now we can only wait."
"In the meantime, no sweet lady kisses." Brittany tried to smile to comfort me, but the truth was, I was in tears.
It was Tina who had to get out of the car, put her arms around my waist and pull me away. I needed to think logically at that moment. It was complicated, but I had to sort my thoughts. What was known about the behavior of that virus? That no one became a reaper overnight, because there was an incubation period of at least 24 hours. That although the original virus was transmitted in a smoke and shrapnel bomb, which spread it, people passed it to each other through secretions. This included bites, exposure to contaminated blood, kissing and sexual intercourse. That's why, theoretically, a scratch wouldn't necessarily transmit the virus, right? Unless the reaper's hand is bleeding or heavily contaminated with its own secretions. As we were in the middle of the apocalypse, we also didn't have access to the virus's lifespan outside the body. A flu virus can survive for a few days on hard surfaces, depending on the environment. But this reaper virus? We had no clue!
What we did know was that we had never been contaminated by touching a reaper or by coming into contact with a little blood. If that were the case, we would have turned into these beasts a long time ago, especially Mike, Rachel and me.
Mike was talking to Sam and looking at me, while Tina was holding me, because she knew that because she was pregnant, I would never move a muscle to hurt her. So, I stood there in that gas station as a heavy rain fell, scared to death that the love of my life had become infected, watching Mike make decisions without asking my opinion.
"Santana, you come with me so we can look for a house to spend the day, okay?" Mike told me in a mild and uncharacteristic tone.
What he wanted was to keep me away from Brittany and with a minimally occupied mind. Blaine got out of the other truck so that Mike, Sam and I could look for a good house.
"We are in Fryeburg, Maine… I believe." Mike said frowning. "Who knew we could make it this far?"
We drove around the city, which was relatively small. Then we came across another community that started to live behind walls. Apparently, they've fenced in a huge area, like it's an entire neighborhood. There was an entrance gate and a watchtower. Mike decided to stop in front of the gate and waved to a man that was in a watchtower, armed and in a raincoat, obviously suffering from the heavy rain.
"Do not approach." He said with the help of a megaphone.
"I don't want trouble." Mike yelled to the man.
"You get out of the car. The rest stay!" The man ordered.
"Okay." Mike got out and we just waited. "I'm not looking for trouble. I just needed some info, if it's possible."
What Mike started to say to the subject was barely intelligible to us. What I do know is that Mike walked to the gate, which was completely closed, making it impossible to see what was inside. A small window was opened in the gate, through which Mike talked to someone. It was ten minutes of talking before he got back in the car.
"So?" Sam asked anxiously.
"They said that the population of this city and some of the surrounding areas are all behind the wall, including the dogs and the cats. There is nothing else useful to catch, and that absolutely no one enters the protected area without being isolated for 24 hours, even the residents there. You have to respect the rule. He said that we don't have to worry much about zombies, because these people eliminate them continuously, whenever they appear. Still, that there could always be new ones because of reapers. And also that we can take any house to spend some time."
"If so." Sam had taken over the driving. "I saw a nice house right there. We can call the others."
"You are going to call them. Santana and I are staying here to check out the house first."
Sam dropped us off in front of a two-story house that looked okay: a screened-in porch (Maine was very cold), it didn't look like it belonged to someone slovenly, it had a clean front, no trees around, and a roof that allowed escape through the street. We went into the house, checked room by room and found nothing. About five minutes later, everyone else arrived and our routine started again.
Quinn said that Brittany should be isolated until the next day, and they chose a room on the second floor for my girl. That house still had furniture, although it was probably cleaned by the people in the walled city, so Brittany had a room of her own: the only one with a warm bed with mattress. Even though I wanted to comfort her, Brittany wouldn't let me. I just followed Quinn to the room destined for her and stayed there at the door watching everything.
"Let's create a code." Quinn suggested. "I'm going to lock your door, and every time I come here to check your signals, or to bring you food, I'm going to knock twice on the door, and you must knock back before I open it. Could it be?"
"Yes." Brittany answered and looked at me, trying to give me confidence. "Everything is gonna be all right, Santana. I'm okay, I'm not feeling sick despite the pain in my back."
"Are you sure?"
"I am a little cold too."
"We all are, Britt." Quinn said. "I think everyone is going to get a serious flu after having to get wet in this storm."
"Getting a flu is the best scenario possible. I would be glad to just getting a flu." Brittany tried to convey hope, but I could feel that she herself was fearful, doubting that everything was going to be all right.
"Let's prevent the worst of it. Get out of those wet clothes and put on some dry ones, Britt. I'll bring your sleeping bag right now, so you can be warm." Quinn said as the doctor of the house.
"I'll wait here to you bring her backpack."
"No Santana." Brittany said to me. "I'm the one that want you out of here. Leave me alone, please. I need to keep my concentration to get better."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am. Now, get out of here."
I respected Brittany wishes and got away from that bedroom with Quinn.
"Santana."
"Quinn, please. I don't care about your honest opinions right now."
"I was going to say that you're soaking wet, you're cold, and you should also put on dry clothes. We all need it."
Even though I was angry and scared, I did as Quinn recommended and changed my clothes. The last time I was so afraid and sad in my life was when my mother put me on that boat. Because I knew she was going to die and I couldn't do anything about it. The fear I felt at that moment was similar. Losing Brittany was something I couldn't even rationalize. I just didn't know what my life would be like without her. I knew that everyone was watching me and that they wouldn't let me go near that room. So, I isolated myself in another place of the house, on the first floor, which looked like it had once been an office. I sat in a very dusty armchair, and looked at the window, at the rain that was softer, but still persisting.
"You need to eat something." Rachel walked into the office carrying a mug of instant noodles.
"Did the goo run out?"
"I would love for that to be the case. Tina is sick of the goo."
"You can have my share. I don't have the stomach for it."
"Are you sure?"
I nodded, and Rachel ate my pasta with satisfaction. We no longer lived in a situation where you could eat two or three meals a day. At most, a snack and a meal, as sometimes happened in the bunker or on the island in Indian Lake. Eating someone else's portion was the equivalent of winning a ticket to a barbecue.
"How is your arm?" I asked.
"Better. But it still hurts a little."
"Did you see Brittany's wound?"
"No... I mean, yes… I didn't touched her. Quinn was the one… you know."
"Rachel, did you see Brittany's wound? A scratch wouldn't need as much bandage as I saw in the car."
"The reaper dug its nails into the base of her neck and scratched her high on her back. Scratches that weren't so shallow. But there was no time for Brittany to be bitten. Quinn wasn't really the first to treat Brittany. I poured alcohol on the wound shortly after we got in the car. But… I'm sorry I was afraid and I just put some alcohol, you know?"
"Thanks for that. For prompt service." I sighed and glared at Rachel. "I keep trying to remember how my mom got bitten, and Kurt. It's funny that I can't have that memory. It's like everything is a super-accelerated dream."
"I saw Kurt get bitten. It happened right in front of me. But I didn't see your mother getting hurt."
"I can't even remember my mother's wound. I'm not even sure she ever showed it to me. But I know it was real, because my mother wasn't the type to beat herself up. She would have gotten on the boat with me if she thought she was okay. Of that I am certain."
"San, we already had reaper blood on our face, and nothing happened. I think it's transmission wasn't be that easy or simple. I remember the stories my dads told me about AIDS. People though it was transmitted by simple touch, but it wasn't like that. You have to trust that Brittany is going to be okay."
"Trust?" I shook my head in disbelief. "I don't know what trust is anymore, Rachel. I can't even remember the last time I prayed for god."
"I still pray, almost every day. Most of the time I thanks for living another day and for you all being with me. At other times I simply ask for forgiveness."
"I beg your pardon?"
"For doing whatever it takes to live another day. You know, like those days we needed to kill. I asked for forgiveness."
"But if you didn't kill, you would be killed or worse."
"Yes, l know that. Sometimes I think about the person I failed to kill."
"Who?"
"Sara." Rachel lowered her head and stared at her fingernails. "Because I wanted to kill Sara when she shot Finn. Because I still dream of a thousand and one possibilities to save Finn, including shooting her in the middle of her forehead instead of shooting her in the leg. But I always wake up from this dream... and I feel this regret and this relief at the same time. One part of me regrets not having killed her, and that's why I bear part of the responsibility for Finn's death. Another side of me thinks that not killing Sara was my redemption."
"And how do you solve this dilemma?"
"I don't solve it, San. So I pray, because I need my conscience and my sanity."
"How do you pray?"
"I never really memorized Jewish prayers because only my father Hiram was Jewish, and he was never a tradition person. That's why I only ask God for mercy for my soul."
"Okay..."
"You are Catholic."
"So what?"
"Why don't you pray a hail Mary?"
"Why?"
"Because it's Virgin Mary who pleads for sinners now and at the hour of death."
"Abuela was a devotee of the Virgin Mary. She always prayed hail Mary."
"Do you want to pray for Brittany?"
"I do…but I don't know if I remember the prayer."
"I will help you. Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee..."
Rachel and I said Hail Mary a few times until I couldn't do it anymore because I burst into tears. Because I wanted Brittany to be okay, at the same time I had so little hope. Deep down, I was praying for a miracle because, deep down, I was aware of the prognosis that I feared more than my own life.