“Okay. Your grip when you hold it is going to be firm but not too tight,” he says, handing me the weapon. “One hand holds the gun and the other supports it. Arms extended and feet shoulder width apart. But you’re not going to lock your elbows or your knees.”
“I hate guns.”
“You wouldn’t believe the shit I heard it saying aboutyouearlier. Some of it was downright mean and petty. I was surprised.”
“Very funny.”
He grins. It’s there and gone in an instant. And it doesnotmake my belly tumble and turn. I just have gas or something. “When you fire, it’s a gentle squeeze,” he says. “Don’t jerk the trigger. You’re going to shoot when you’re breathing out. Keep it nice and calm and easy.”
I arrange my body as told and try to calm myself. His hands cover mine, making incremental changes to their position. Straightening my shoulders some and nudging my foot in a few inches. And it’s no big deal, the way he’s touching me. Purely professional for the sake of what we’re doing. But the warmth of his skin on mine lingers for some reason.
There are so many pine trees in the area and they smell beautiful out in the fresh morning air. For sure it’s the flora getting me high.
What is wrong with me today? I wonder if I’m ovulating. It would explain things. Hormones are the worst.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. Yep.”
The mess of tangled metal on the other side of the creek will do as a target. I concentrate on the sights and squeeze off a round. It makes a noise as it hits something. Of course, when your target is something the size of half a bridge, hitting the damn thing can’t be too hard.
Dean nods. “Good work. Go again.”
“I want to help you and Leon bury bodies today. It doesn’t seem fair, that particular job falling on just you two.”
He casts a look toward Soph over his shoulder. Checking she’s still there and okay. “I appreciate you wanting to help. Natalia and Leon seem like good people. But we haven’t even known them a whole day. One of us needs to be with Sophie.”
I frown. “And we don’t want her around any more dead bodies than strictly necessary.”
“No, we don’t. I’m bigger and stronger and can get the job done fastest out of the two of us, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll clean out the fridge and freezer and sort out the rest of the house. Get rid of anything that’s rotting and make some room for us. Also, we’ve got food for the next few days, but I want to see what’s at the grocery store. Figure out if we need to go looking in the houses or think of making a trip farther afield.”
“We should start making a list of stuff we’re going to need. Solar panels and seeds and so on.”
I nod and pick a point on the bridge, then aim and fire once again. There’s no satisfying ping from hitting metal this time. But never mind.
“You don’t hate the place,” I say, and it’s half question, half statement.
“I don’t hate the place,” he confirms. Though I can hear the silentbut. “It’s going to take a lot of work.”
SATURDAY
“Oh no,” I say with mock sadness. “The broccoli has gone bad. Those cabbages aren’t looking so good either. Whatever will we do?”
Sophie barely reacts. Just keeps on bouncing the tennis ball she found out on the street. Guess she was due some down days with all she’s been through. Grief has a habit of sneaking up on you and slapping you sideways when you least expect it. And she lost everyone and everything on top of the trauma of surviving on her own for several days. She had to have been terrified.
I wonder if she waited until we’d stopped somewhere to be sad. Like she needed some safety and space to wade through those emotions. I don’t know. But trying to get her to talk about it has not been successful so far. All I can do is wait and be here for her.
For someone who wasn’t even certain she wanted children, Sophie sure does have me experiencing big feelings. I’m just thankful she found us in the drugstore. The idea of her out there on her own is horrible. At any rate, she’s here and she’s basically okay, and we’re going to keep her that way.
Today we’re in the market on the edge of town. Natalia’s arthritis is acting up, so she’s staying close to home. Soph and I are on our own with the grocery sorting. Dean disposed of the bodies of two people with shotguns guarding the front of the store, and another one from the back office. They all seem to have died of the virus while defending the place from looters. And they also seem to have succeeded. Not even the liquor store next door was touched.
Canned chili, soups, and stews are low in stock, along with instant mashed potato. Same goes for tissues, toilet paper, and cold and flu remedies. The sort of items you’d expect to have been popular during a pandemic.
Happily, though, the store isn’t trashed and there’s still plenty here for us to work with for the time being. How much of the canned food that’s missing is still sitting in people’s houses is another question. It’s definitely worth looking for. Given how fast the virus worked, some people would have died before getting through their supplies.
Wolf Creek is slowly starting to come together. Leon and Dean used one of the tractors from the blockade to dig a mass grave beside the road into town yesterday. They’re making good progress relocating the few hundred bodies needing to be laid to rest. Perhaps in time we can turn the area into a memorial garden. It would be good to do something to remember the people who were here before us.
