The Survivor Chronicles: Book 1, The Upheaval (31 page)

Riley started to agree with him but her mouth closed as a group of armed men filtered into the restaurant. The conversation around her died down as everyone’s attention was drawn to the group of twelve that circled together in the middle of the floor. The man that had yelled at her broke away from behind the food line to join the others.

Her unease grew as they talked rapidly, and with hand gestures that made it clear that whatever they were discussing, it wasn’t making them happy. Xander placed her hand down as he rose. “Xander,” she hissed.

He waved her back as he took a few steps toward the group. The rest of the restaurant had fallen silent; everyone was focused upon the men. Riley watched anxiously as Xander moved closer, stopping at the top of the step that led to the main floor. Sweat beaded her brow, she was certain they wouldn’t harm him, yet she couldn’t shake the certainty that they would do something to him if they caught him eavesdropping.

There was a stretched silence before the man who had yelled at her nodded, gestured to three of the men, and left the building. Riley stared at the nine remaining men, too many as far as she was concerned. Xander came back to them, his eyes troubled as he slid into the seat beside her.

“Did you hear anything?” she whispered.

“No, but something has them pretty riled up.”

She swallowed heavily. The remaining men watched the people still filtering through the line with far too much intensity for her liking. “Maybe we should leave,” she whispered.

“We should give it another day. What’s so bad here? They’re trying to protect us, and we haven’t seen them do anything wrong,” Bobby said fervently.

She didn’t know what was wrong here; she just knew that it wasn’t right. She would like to believe she was being paranoid but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t. Something was wrong and she was terrified that in another day they wouldn’t have the opportunity to leave. Terrified that they might not even see tomorrow, she slid her hand back into Xander’s and held firmly to him.

CHAPTER 22

Carl

Somewhere in Mass.

They were lost.

And truth be told? He didn’t really care. What difference did it make if they were lost when they had nowhere to go? Not anymore anyway. In fact, all they had was this truck and the clothes on their backs. He thought they should try and find a store, weren’t people supposed to go to Costco or Walmart or a grocery store or something during the apocalypse? He didn’t even know if there were any of those things in this area. He was sure there had to be a grocery store, but he didn’t know where, and he really didn’t feel like stopping.

So instead he just drove. And drove… and drove. He thought they might be going in circles, but he didn’t care as he passed over broken roadways, front yards, back yards, on sidewalks, and across more fields. It was mindless, something that he hadn’t been since this whole thing started, and it felt good. Rochelle stared ahead, her brow furrowed as her hands fiddled anxiously in her lap. Though John seemed more coherent and functional than he had been before, he also wasn’t speaking. The map was in his lap, but he stared silently out the windshield.

Carl opened his mouth to tell him to try and figure out where they were, but he closed it again. He didn’t really feel like speaking. He’d promised Rochelle they would help her find her parents, but that could wait a little bit longer. It was essential for him to try and gather his thoughts, as scattered and fractured as they were.

He glanced at John again. His heart ached for the kid; he couldn’t imagine what he was going through. His own parents were gone, but their deaths hadn’t given him the one-two punch that John had just received. He didn’t blame John for checking out for a good hour. He didn’t know how he would have handled it, either, and truth be told he was amazed John was doing as well as he was.

John hadn’t even asked what it was the woman at the college had told him. Carl was hoping that would continue, that John would simply accept his mother was gone and try to move on with his life. If that was at all possible. He didn’t even have a clue what they were going to be moving on to. As far as he could tell it was nothing, and if they didn’t find a goal soon, things were going to get real nasty. People were going to get real nasty.

He thought he might actually prefer the earthquakes to the imminent mess he felt looming on the horizon.

“Did that woman see my mother?”

Carl groaned inwardly. He should have known it was coming, he would have asked, but still he didn’t want to be the one to answer. Rochelle opened her mouth, but only a small exhalation escaped her. Carl couldn’t let her be the one to tell John either.

Carl longed to lie, to just say no, and be done with it. But if he lied, if he hid from this than John would retain hope, he would be haunted by the unknowing, hounded by the thought that he may have left his mother behind. Carl felt that was far worse than the truth.

“She didn’t, no,” Carl hedged, cursing his cowardice.

“Someone else did though?”

“Yes,” Carl reluctantly admitted.

“They saw her die?”

His hands twisted on the steering wheel. He glanced longingly at the pack of butts on the dash. “Yes,” he admitted as he pulled to the side.

“Why are you stopping?” Rochelle asked.

“I need a cigarette.” He grabbed the pack and hopped out of the truck. Closing the door, he leaned against the hood as he lit it and inhaled deeply. The countryside around him was in ruins. Wherever he glanced was a disaster area, one that wouldn’t be inhabitable for a long time, if ever again. At least there aren’t any dead animals around here, Carl thought as he surveyed the wreckage that encompassed him.

He hadn’t heard John open the door, but he was suddenly beside him, his eyes fevered as they pinned Carl to the spot. He tossed his cigarette aside and lit another one. “What did that woman say?”

“She said your mom was gone, John. There’s nothing that can change that.”

John inhaled sharply. “Who saw it?”

“What?”

“Who saw it? Who saw her die?”

Carl paused. “One of her students.”

John nodded as he bit on his upper lip and turned to survey the field. “It was bad, wasn’t it?”

“I… don’t know,” Carl muttered.

“That woman said it was, though. Was my mother crushed? Was it one of those holes?”

“John, I…”

“Tell me!”

“Does it matter?” a voice from behind them said. Carl hadn’t seen Rochelle hovering behind John. They both turned at the sound of her whispered question. She shrugged her shoulders. “Does it really matter how she went, when she won’t be coming back?”

John’s eyes darted around, and for a second Carl thought they were going to roll up in his head and John was going to pass out. Then, his shoulders slumped. He released his now slightly mangled lip and nodded. “Yes. I don’t know why, I know it won’t make me feel any better, but yes, it does make a difference. I have to know. It may not make any sense, but I can’t not know.”

Carl tossed his butt away and lit another one. He was starting to calm down a little now. The sudden influx of the stimulant wasn’t pumping him up but settling him down. He welcomed it.

Before this he’d been thinking about quitting, he’d even bought the gum, but he didn’t see the point of that anymore.

“Carl?” John prompted.

“Fire,” he answered. “She died in a fire.”

John winced, he huddled deeper within himself as tears formed in his eyes. Carl waited, breathless. He hoped John wouldn’t start to cry again, prayed that he would not retreat behind the wall of silence and misery that had enshrouded him before. He didn’t know what he’d do with the kid if he went catatonic again. He didn’t know how he’d keep John alive if he stopped fighting to keep himself alive.

John had been handed a double whammy, but he wouldn’t survive long if he didn’t start to develop a thicker shell. Like I should talk, Carl thought with a sigh. He’d barely even had the courage to tell John what had happened to his mom, never mind actually having to deal with the heartache that such a revelation had caused him. He was going to have to form a thicker shell too, he realized. He just didn’t know how any of them were going to go about doing that.

He glanced over at Rochelle. She was so young. It wasn’t fair. He held out no hope they would find her parents. Not anymore. He didn’t even know where he was right now, never mind her family. But he supposed trying to locate them was a starting point, a mission, something to do other than drive around in circles.

“Newport?” he inquired.

She glanced at him, her hands twisted anxiously in front of her as she frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I want to know,” she muttered.

“Yes, you do,” John told her. “The answer may not be the one you want, but the not knowing was even worse.”

Carl sighed in relief as John continued to speak and react with them. “What will I do if I don’t like the answer? Where will I go?” Her lower lip trembled as she stared across the broken landscape.

“With us. You’ll go with us,” Carl told her. She turned back to them and surveyed them with hooded eyes that were still distrustful. He didn’t blame her. “If you’d like.”

She managed a wan smile, her arms folded over her chest as she nodded. “That’s nice of you, but why would you want to take care of me?”

“I didn’t say we’d take care of you. I mean, you seem pretty capable of that yourself. You just won’t have to be alone. It’s always good to have friends, and it’s really good to have them now.”

She nodded as she smiled at them. “You’re right.”

“So, Newport?”

She frowned as her nose scrunched. “I don’t know; I mean that’s where I live but I don’t think my Mom and Dad will still be there if they’re alive.”

“Then where would they be?” John asked.

“Looking for me.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Carl muttered. His throat was raw and his heart was pumping but he lit another cigarette. He wasn’t in the biggest rush to get back into that truck right now. “But your camp is gone. Do you have any relatives in the area?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s a whole lotta no help,” John muttered. “Where do we go, then?”

Rochelle frowned as she shook her head. Carl was impressed she wasn’t crying as she stared over the broken land again. “Maybe we’ll just try and find another fire station or police department, there has to be one still standing around here,” he suggested.

“It’s better than nothing,” John agreed.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I could use some food.” Carl walked around to the back of the truck and threw the doors open. Some of their supplies had been jostled around but for the most part everything was still intact. He hefted himself into the back of the truck, grabbed three bottles of water and a bag of chips.

He studied their supplies, they were probably doing better than some people but the supplies wouldn’t last forever. His thoughts turned back to Costco or Walmart or whatever. One more try at a police station, and then he would suggest burglarizing a department store. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea to go anywhere near something housing a bunch of food and clothes right now anyway. He imagined there was a lot of mass looting going on in some places already.

Grabbing a strip of beef jerky, he headed to the back of the truck and hopped out. He tossed a bottle of water to John and handed the other to Rochelle. “I think we’re going to have to find more supplies too.” He bit off a piece of jerky and handed the bag to Rochelle.