“I don’t know. As much as I hate you getting hurt, it made for a perfect distraction.”
“Great.”
“They would have killed me,” he says seriously. “You get that, right? What you did was very brave.”
“Be honest. We both know perfectly well that it was fueled by idiocy.” I don’t want to think about what would have happened if theyhadkilled him. Nor what they were planning on doing to me. Life sure comes at you hard some days. “Lucky you’re a good shot. Now stand still so I can do my nurse thing.”
“You do a nurse thing?” he asks with interest.
“Medical-aid adjacent might be more accurate. The worst injuries I’ve ever treated are blisters from wearing new shoes and a hangnail or two.”
He winces. Such a tough guy. “This should be interesting.”
I am keeping a mental list of things I wish I had searched for on the internet. Also, losing online maps outright sucks. We still have GPS for what it’s worth. Dean said orbiting satellites are constantly bombarding the world with radio waves. He briefly turns on his smartphone and even without mobile data, he can access our coordinates. However, without a connection to a map they might as well be hieroglyphics.
We follow the signs for the closest town. The motorcycle is left on a back street, and we walk the couple of blocks to the drugstore. Then we crouch behind a car in an alley opposite and watch the street for a while.
I’ve never been on a stakeout before. Or whatever this is. Trash is blowing about, care of a warm wind, and the scent of dead and rotting bodies is in the air. For as long as I live, I will never forget the stench of decay. I wonder how long it takes for a corpse to dry out and desiccate. My life used to be so nice andsimple. How the human body decomposed rarely even crossed my mind.
Wherever we settle, we’re going to have to deal with the dearly departed. But that’s a worry for another day.
Dean’s gunshot wound has stopped bleeding. But he’s moving in a stiff and careful sort of manner. Like he’s in a lot of pain. I have now seen him kill four people. All of them to protect us from the virus or violence. One of these days, I’m going to take a moment to scream into the void. Just get out all of the horror and rage and hopelessness. But there’s no time for me to fall apart right now. We need meds and a safe place to stay for the night. Then I’ll go back to work talking him into Wolf Creek.
We watch the drugstore for the agreed-upon hour. For safety’s sake. I am not great at waiting, but I manage to stay quiet and not fidget too much. I’m happy to be taking a break from the bike. Seems my ass still requires a respite after a certain number of miles. And almost getting kidnapped for the second time tends to take it out of you. Happy to have made it through my first gunfight, too. I feel like you should get a sticker or badge for that.
The drugstore’s front window hasn’t been broken. You would think this sort of place would be right up there with gun shops in popularity now. I wonder if everyone in this town died. Perhaps the store stayed open until the end and no one needed to steal anything. There’s every chance we’re the first to visit since the virus shut down this corner of the world.
Though, with that being said, the jewelry store down the street has been broken into. And a body lies on the footpath out front with half of its head missing. Guess a shotgun at close range would do that sort of damage. Though I don’t really know for sure. It’s just an educated guess care of action movies.
But imagine losing your life over such a thing. You’d get more for a freshly baked loaf of bread than you would for a diamondring these days. Wander into the right museum and you could bag yourself a crown to wear if you were so inclined. The old ways and wealth are dying a swift death.
Be wild to see if any of the billionaires survived by hiding in bunkers. Their currency and crypto or whatever would be worthless now. All of the tech bros’ technology is dead for the time being. Would the former elite still wield any power in this new world, or would they have to content themselves with becoming one of the little people?
There are a couple of cars parked on the street and a child’s bike is lying abandoned on the pavement. One of those with a basket on the front and a bell on the handlebar. I always wanted to get an adult-size one of those.
Dean motions for me to be quiet and to follow. We move swiftly but carefully across the street to the drugstore. After trying to stay still for so long, it feels good to move.
Surprisingly the door is unlocked. How lucky. There’ll be no need for breaking glass and making noise. I am looking forward to getting a decent moisturizer for my face and hands. We left the house so fast I forgot to grab one. It’s first on my shopping list. Once we’ve found antibiotics, of course. I wouldn’t mind a cold pack for my face, either.
Inside, the air smells of perfumes and body sprays with a strange underlying scent of bleach or something similar. The same as every other drugstore. Familiarity is kind of nice. Like I could close my eyes and pretend the world was still working and all of the people were still alive.
We head straight for the pharmacy area at the back of the store. Both of us take out our flashlights. There’s enough sun to see, but not to read the print on all of the boxes and bottles. We head behind the back counter to find what we need.
“We need some stronger painkillers as well,” I say. “Just in case.”
“I’m going to check out back and make sure we’re alone.”
“Okay.”
Which is when we both hear it—a person hiccupping.
The door of a cupboard is flung open. It’s decent-sized and down low. Only a few feet from where I am standing. Out of it flies a young girl. She crashes straight into me, pressing her hot, damp, and snotty face against my tee, and wrapping her arms tight around my waist. And she doesn’t just cry, she keens, making this heartbreaking noise.
One that she pauses only to cough.
Dean freezes in place.
CHAPTER SEVEN
