Tails of the Apocalypse (23 page)

Joe shook his head. Gray smiled, satisfied. “Good, I’m glad we don’t have to fight about that. You know I don’t like fighting with you. These animals will probably go right back to their cages if we lure ’em with a little food. You got those fancy candles from that artsy-fartsy card shop down the way?”

Joe nodded and pulled his pack from his shoulder.

“Good. Set ’em up around, this place smells like death. I’ll get the tools. I want to get started. We got dozens to get through.”

Surly watched Joe set down the candles and struggle to ignite them with his dying lighter. He was harmless. She whipped her head to the side to look at Walt. Maybe he was a little more interested in eating than the other, but he was also careless and clumsy. Surly could easily dodge him if it came to that. He’d wear out before he caught her.

It was the other one that made her claws curl into her wooden perch. He was bad news. She watched Gray toss a single dog treat to the half-dozen starving puppies. He laughed as they began snarling and biting each other, desperate to reach the small bite of food. He’d never let them go, Surly knew. The best she could hope for was that he grew bored with the pet shop and abandoned them for richer pickings.

The men pushed the shelving units against the walls, making an empty square of the small store. Much of the broken window was blocked by the shelving units, but Surly thought she could still fit. She just had to wait for the right time. Her cage hung above them, but the cockatoo cage had been wedged in next to the fish tanks. Joe found more stock in the back room and emptied a large bag of dog food into the center. There was enough food that the puppies were all eating, their tails wagging furiously. Joe also put down a large bowl of water and was feeding the kittens when Walt started scolding him.

“Why you wasting food on them? We’re going to need that. We can use it for the herd.” He snatched the bag of food from Joe’s hands. The kittens transferred their meows from Joe to Walt.

“Can’t let them starve—” started Joe.

“But it’s okay if
we
do? Every bite of food you give them is one less for us and for the Infected. Hasn’t exactly been a bounty out there lately.”

Gray had been staring out the front window. He turned toward the other two. “Let him feed them. Feeding ’em fattens ’em up for us, right? We’ll just eat ’em, when it comes to it. Besides, we only have to make do for a couple of days. The labor market’s due to open next week.”

“Are there more—uh, more vendors?” asked Walt, handing Joe the bag of cat food.

“Nah,” said Gray, turning back to the window. “Not for Infected anyway. Everyone else is too chicken to round ’em up like we do.”

Joe dumped a little pile of food at his feet. The kittens rubbed against his legs and purred before attacking the dusty pellets. “Maybe that just means they treat the Infected like humans. Labor market, Gray? Why not just call it a slave auction and be honest about it?”

Gray turned around. “How many times do I have to explain this, Joe? If we leave ’em on the street, they die. We don’t have the means to keep feeding ’em for doing nothing. They got to pull their own weight. Have a purpose. Just like these dogs. You think they’re better off dead?” He paused for a moment and pulled out a knife. “If that’s what you think, go ahead. Go take care of the herd. Be done with it.”

“No, Gray, I just…” Joe stopped, quailing under Gray’s stare. “You’re right.”

“Cheer up, Joe. They’re going to be useful. They’ll pull plows and carts, they’ll intimidate enemies, they’ll provide a way to work off tension without anyone getting hurt. They’re going to be valuable and they’ll be comfortable as long as they stay useful. It’s not a bad life. Now, planning all this? That’s hard work. Making me hungry,” he grinned, never taking his gaze away from Joe. “Walt, help me wrangle that pig.”

Walt looked around the dim room. “Sooey!” he laughed. Joe looked uneasy.

“Help us catch it, Joe,” said Gray, staring harder at him. “If you help us catch it, I won’t make you kill it yourself.”

Surly fluttered and rocked on her perch as Joe sighed and looked around him. She and Princess had never been friends, but she didn’t want to see a slaughter either. “Pretty Princess!” she screeched, trying to warn the pig. “Pretty Princess, pretty pig! Nuh-night! Nuh-night!” She rocked on the perch, swinging the entire cage, trying to think of other warning words the shop owner had used on occasion.

“Joe!” shouted Gray over Surly Shirley’s raucous shrieks. “Shut that bird up, it’s driving me crazy.” He picked up a dog toy and flung it at the cage. It went wide.

“Nuh-night, Princess!” Surly cried.

Joe abandoned his search for the pig and climbed onto a step stool, catching the swinging cage and holding it still between his hands. Surly beat her wings toward him, but he didn’t let go. “It’s okay, Princess,” said Joe, thinking the parrot was shrieking its own name.

Surly stopped and stared at him. How could he mistake her for the pig?

“That’s a pretty Princess,” said Joe, foolishly sticking a thick finger into the cage to stroke her feathers. Surly bit it. Hard. Joe hissed as she held on tight, but he didn’t yell. “It’s okay, Princess, I know you’re scared. We’ll get out of here soon.”

Surly hadn’t expected that. She let go of the salty finger. “Surly Shirley,” she cooed. “Surly Shirley.”

“I don’t know who Shirley is, but I don’t think she’s coming back,” said Joe, sucking his finger briefly, then fumbling in his pocket for a moment. He pulled out a wrinkled plastic bag.

“Surly Shirley wants a cracker. Princess is a pretty pig,” she responded, curious to see if he’d get it.

“Oh,
you’re
Shirley—”

“Joe,” yelled Gray, “stop talking to that chicken and help us. This pig is heavy.”

“Here you go, Shirley,” he said softly and pulled out a dried apple slice from the bag. He poked it through the cage bars and then looked around. The pig wriggled between Gray and Walt, who were standing in front of the back door. Joe stepped down from the ladder to let them into the back of the store.

“Nuh-night, Princess,” chirped Surly quietly. The large flashlight the men had brought with them bounced its beam off the silent aquariums, flashing green beams over the shop. Princess began squealing her fear, and the dogs barked, excited, though they didn’t know why.

Surly puffed her feathers up and turned around on the perch. She didn’t want to see Princess get murdered through the aquarium glass. She worked at the cage latch as the pig’s distress reached a crescendo. Princess had bought her a chance to escape. Surly wasn’t going to lose it.

She looked around the shop, distracting herself with memories. It was the only home she’d ever known. What was out there, beyond the long, tiled hallway? More birds like her? More men like Gray? When the store owner hadn’t returned, she’d thought the humans were all gone. Were they just waiting to catch her out there instead? Where could she go? Maybe there was another pet shop somewhere. She’d never know if she didn’t find a way out. She glided from the cage over the top of a shelf, just barely clearing the broken window.

The mall was dark and silent except for the large clothing store that capped the end. It glowed with lanterns, and a rippling moan seemed to travel forever through it. That’s where the other humans were. Surly didn’t want to go there, so she flapped toward the other end, her wings stiff but warming to the unaccustomed exercise. Sterile glass and stone were all that she found. A long barren tunnel of window and floor. No water, no trees, no fruit.

She was still inside the mall. But there had to be a way out. The humans had to have come from somewhere. Then she rounded a corner and saw it. Sunlight and trees waving in a breeze. She could almost feel the wind.

Surly swooped low and fast before anything could stop her, before anyone could catch her and force her back into her cage. She smacked into the glass door with a dull thud and toppled onto the floor. Dazed, she simply sat for a while and stared at the green leaves of the tree just outside. When her head cleared, Surly hopped around looking for a break or a breath of fresh air.

Nothing.

At last she turned and flew back to the pet shop. Where else was there to go? It was the only home she’d ever had.

But Surly knew the men wouldn’t be satisfied with Princess for very long. She might well be on the menu tomorrow. She couldn’t give up. She had to find her way out of the mall. Whatever was waiting for her outside, at least she’d meet it head on, instead of waiting around to be eaten like the pig.

The squealing had stopped by the time she slipped back into her cage. The puppies had settled down, though they occasionally scratched at the back door of the shop and whined. She knew what it meant. Surly wouldn’t be competing with Princess for fruit anymore. She poked with her beak at the sliver of apple that Joe had given her. She picked it up, holding it carefully in one claw, and pushed open the cage door with her head. Princess’s pink plastic food bowl glimmered in the half-light, cleaned to a shine days before. Surly swooped over it, dropping the soft, sweet apple slice into it. The sound of one of the men retching startled her and she fluttered back to her perch.

“Useless…” came Gray’s voice from behind the fish tanks. “Go build a fire to cook it.”

“A fire? Out of what?”

“Find something! I swear Joe Mackey, I should’ve left you in that pool hall for the Infected to kill.”

“Sorry, Gray, I’ll find something.”

Joe emerged from the back and shut the door. He knelt down for just a moment to stroke the puppies jumping at his legs, then stood up. He found the pet care books and began tossing them into a pile in the center of the linoleum floor. Surly watched him smash one of the wooden shelving units into small pieces with an ax.

The parakeets and cockatoos fluttered and chirped and whistled in protest at the noise, but Surly was silent. She was resolved not to miss any opportunity, and she sat grim and unmoving as she watched Joe and the shop door. He lit the large pile of wood and paper, and the flames startled Surly. A billowy plume of smoke rose to envelop her cage and she couldn’t see. She wheezed in the thick cloud. “Bad bird!” she protested, because it had been what the owner yelled at her whenever he wanted her to stop what she was doing. “Bad bird!”

A few seconds later, Joe emerged from the cloud of smoke, pressing his face to the bars. “Sorry Shirley,” he said, unhooking her cage. He swung it down onto the shop’s counter. “Wasn’t thinking about the smoke.” She was only a few feet from the door now, but it was still blocked and closed. Joe bent down to look at her.

“Bad bird!” she spat once more, glaring at him.

“Sorry,” he said, reaching a finger in to stroke her feathers. She bit him again, but only lightly and let go so she could accept his petting her. “I won’t do it again.” He pulled out the plastic bag again and offered her another apple slice.

“Lemon?” she asked.

“Apple,” he said, holding it out. She pretended not to notice. He looked around at the crackling fire as the linoleum bubbled and blackened at the edge. The puppies were cowering against his legs, and the kittens had jumped onto shelving units to get as far away from the flames as possible. “How are we going to keep you safe from the smoke? We can’t breathe it either.”

“Hello, Paws and Claws,” said Surly, trying to suggest a door. She snatched the apple slice as payment. But Joe didn’t get it. Instead, he returned her to her cage and stood up to open the door to the back room. The puppies hurtled past him as much attracted by the smell of Princess as driven by fear of the fire.

“Joe, get these dogs out of here, they’re trying to grab the pork,” yelled Walt.

“Got to let the smoke out somewhere,” said Joe.

“Relax, Walt,” said Gray, “give ’em a hoof or an ear or something.”

A bright square of light stretched across the floor, and a blast of chilled air hit Surly. The back exit was open! She smashed herself into her cage’s door, forgetting that Joe had closed the latch. Shaking her head to clear it, she began lifting the catch carefully with her beak, just as Gray yelled at Joe to close the door.

“You’re going to attract someone’s attention!”

“There’s no one out there, Gray,” Joe protested. “Look for yourself. It’s all clear. You’re way too jumpy. We should just drop the herd off at that City and go. We’ll go south, live where it’s warm and the fishing is good. I heard it’s practically empty in Florida, got evacuated early. Lots of stuff just waiting for us. We don’t need the Infected. What do you say?”

Surly managed to undo the latch and pushed at the door with the top of her head. There was a shuffle as Gray moved to the open exit door. “We aren’t leaving until we trade the herd.”

“But why?” asked Joe. “We don’t need the traders’ stuff. We can all be comfortable—”

“Because I listened to one of your rumors before. Remember how that turned out? Sure didn’t have a problem chopping up the Infected
then,
did you, Joe? And all I had to show for that was a string of shriveled ears and a broken arm. Maybe Florida is paradise, like you heard. I’m willing to bet that story is as made up as the cure, but who knows? I just want some insurance first. Unless, of course, you want me to start thinking you set me up back home. That maybe you thought that dumb broad in the police station was going to take care of me and let you go your merry way with all my earnings. Is that what you want me to start thinking, Joe?”

Surly fluttered out of the cage to the floor. She didn’t want to risk being seen, and she didn’t want to be up near the ceiling in the thick smoke. She scuttled toward the back door, keeping one eye on the kittens, who were licking their chops. Their tails rippled and twitched.

“No, of course not,” started Joe.

“Then stop being a coward—”

Surly had made it to the entrance of the back room. Across from her stood Joe and Gray in the frame of the open exit door. Walt was hacking off bits of pork from Princess’s body, the puppies who hadn’t gotten Gray’s bribe watching him anxiously. Surly tried not to look.

Joe’s face turned red. “I’m not being a coward. I didn’t know the bounty thing was a bad rumor. I wouldn’t put you in that spot, Gray. But this is—this isn’t right. What if these people wake up? What if they get better and find out they got no teeth, that they’re slaves? It’s not like the people we sell them to are all going to treat them kindly. Some of them might get hurt. Some of them might get killed. Or—or
used
. They’re
people
.”