End of the Line (Book 2): Stuck in the Middle (2 page)

“What’d you see, Annemarie?”

“A sleeping bag in the first aid aisle. It’s still warm.”

“Let’s take our stuff and leave,” Mike said.

“No,” Jim called out as he walked to us. “What if they need help? What if they’re scared?”

Sweet Jim always, the optimist.

“It won’t hurt to look around,” I suggested. “Maybe let them know we aren’t bad.” Mike looked uncomfortable, but didn’t say anything.

It was a mixed bag meeting other people. On one hand we’ve meet friendly people such as Mike and his family and Maddie’s kid Eric, but we’ve also dealt with murderers and rapists.

“Grace, you see a weapon, fire.”

She didn’t respond but I knew she heard him and would do it.

Mike walked to the first aid section. He looked over the sleeping bag and the stove but didn’t touch them. When Rachel, our former leader, died she made Tanya and Jim the leaders but out in the field Mike was in charge. The three of them worked together surprisingly well.

“Hello,” Mike called out. He had his side arm out but it was pointed down. “Whoever is here, we aren’t going to hurt you. It’s okay if you come out.”

No response.

“Please,” this came from Jim. “If you’re in trouble, we can help.”

I didn’t think we could.

Mike looked around aisles near this one. “They either aren’t coming out or left the store. Let’s pack up and get out of here.”

I went back to the aisle to get the first aid kits.

And I saw him.

The aisle next to us led to a store room. That was where he must have hid. He stood with his back against the doors. He was a gangly teen with greasy brown hair who looked about 17. He wore glasses that were taped together with black electrical tape. He wore dirty jeans, a Virginia Tech sweatshirt, and ratty work boots. I took three steps forward and he didn’t move.

“Hi, I’m Annemarie. Please don’t be afraid.”

The others must have heard me because they moved to the aisle. Thankfully, slowly, because this kid looked like he was about to run. He had a look of terror in his face. Like a stray cat that ran as soon as you got too close.

“We aren’t going to hurt you.”

The kid didn’t say anything. He looked at me with wide eyes behind those broken glasses.

“What’s your name?”

I wasn’t sure he would answer. He looked almost hesitant like he couldn’t remember his name.

“Keith,” he said, his voice low.

“Good to meet you.”

“You have a gun.”

I remembered I had a rifle strapped to my back. “Yes, for the zombs and self-defense. Not to hurt other people.”

“I had a gun but I lost it. I can be an idiot sometimes.”

I was glad the others kept their distance. He was talking to me and some of the fear left his face.

“Keith, are you alone?”

“Always.”

“Do you mind if my friends move forward? They aren’t going to hurt you, I promise.”

He didn’t say anything, but nodded.

I motioned for the others to move. They did very slowly except Grace who stayed behind.

“This is Mike, Jim and Grace. How long have you been here, Keith?”

“I don’t know. I came when the bombs fell.”

Three months ago.

“Aren’t you worried about zombies?”

“No, I’m worried about the hunters.”

“
Hunters?”

“The human zombie ones.”

The kid wasn’t making any sense. He was probably in shock over being alone for so long. I wasn’t sure what to do. He looked harmless and scared. We couldn’t leave him here but I wasn’t sure we should bring him to the boat. I looked to Jim and then Mike for guidance.

“How old are you, son?” Mike asked.

“I’m an adult, 19,” he said. “I don’t have ID, officer.”

“I’m not an officer.”

“You aren’t hunters, are you?”

“We kill them when we can,” Mike explained. “We don’t kill humans unless they try to kill us. Are you going to try to hurt us?”

“I’ll try not to.”

“We have a car, do you want us to drive you somewhere. Maybe a nice secure house?”

Keith didn’t say anything. He looked at all of us.

“Can I trust you?”

“You have to trust someone sometime,” I said. “Can we trust you?”

“I hope so.”

I didn’t like Keith’s ambiguity.

“Keith, why do you think you can hurt us?”

“I bring trouble.”

I softened. I understood. “People have died around you, haven’t they? You think that you killed them.”

Keith didn’t reply. I thought I was right but it was hard to read his face.

“Come on, son,” Mike said. “Pack your bags and we’ll take you to a nice secure house nearby. You can even come back and get supplies if you need them. There’s no reason you should stay here. It’s going to be cold soon.” Not to mention zombies could easily get into the store.

“Can I come with you?” he asked, his face brightened. “I won’t be a bother.”

Mike didn’t respond. I looked around to see the faces of the other. Grace was blank because she barely cared and Jim looked sympathetic.

“We can ask Tanya,” Jim suggested. Jim would take any stray in.

Mike still didn’t say anything. He looked peeved.
It wasn’t like Keith could get on the boat if we decided to leave him behind.

“Okay,” he said, relenting, “Let’s let Tanya decide.”

“Who’s Tanya?” Keith asked.

“Our leader,” I said. “She’s tough but very fair.”

Keith didn’t volunteer more information as we rode to the dock.
Everyone in the backseat was buried under the three heavy sleeping bags from the store. At least I was warm. I never had a chance to go to Lane Bryant. So much for being fashionable.

Mike drove, Grace sat in the shotgun seat keeping a watchful eye for zombies. We only deal with the stragglers. Looking out my window I saw nothing but decaying roads, houses, and strip malls. I made a game of how many strip malls were missing roofs. I lost interest after five.

              It was getting cold. Most of November had been in the mid 40’s to the low 50’s. December proved to be colder and often rainy. The sky was overcast even now, but no rain so far.

Keith sat between Jim and me. I felt his thigh against mine.

              “Keith, did you meet up with anyone from a government camp in Northport?”

             
He didn’t respond right away. Maybe he was startled at the sudden break in silence.

             
“Keith?”

             
“I was there for a little while,” he finally said. “I didn’t like the smell.”

             
I didn’t blame him. I remembered the stink being overwhelming, used to keep the zombs away. No one liked leaving Aisha, but her mother was too comfortable to move out. Of course I could smell Keith in the car and it was a mix of body odor and cologne. He must have used it to cover his scent. The rest of us didn’t smell sweet but we got to shower two or three times a week. I don’t know when Keith showered last.

             
“Have you seen anyone from there recently? We’re looking for a friend we left there.”

             
“Why’d she stay?”

             
“To be with her mother and sister.”

             
“It wasn’t a good place.”

             
Jim tried telling that to Lynne, Aisha’s mother but she was scared to leave.

             
“I don’t want to go back.”

             
“They camp was abandoned and they left a message they were going to Montauk. We’ve been trying to find them.”

             
Keith didn’t respond. It was hard to see him over the sleeping bags. He was a weird kid but I thought about Simon and how traumatized he still was. Keith may get better with people and a sense of safety. He didn’t pull a weapon on us, so I guess that was okay. He allowed Mike to pat him down, and only came up with a steak knife.

             
I didn’t press. I looked at more scenery. The roads were beginning to decay and smaller ones had been broken up by potholes caused by storms and nature. The major highways were in better shape because they were meant to withstand more traffic but they had a lot of broken down wrecks. Roads had been eaten by grass, ivy and trees. Car rides became regularly bumpy and slow.

             
I didn’t want to go back to the boat. I loved the freedom of walking around the outlet mall even with the potential of a zombie lurking in every corner.

             
The air was mercilessly cold with an icy sea breeze as Mike and I took the first wave of supplies
to the boat. I wished for the coat Jim got me but it was tied up in one of the giant garbage bags used to keep the supplies dry. I had a feeling we wouldn’t be going on any more supply runs. Mike rowed to
Renewal
and I held on to the supplies from the gusty sea winds. The dinghy had a motor and fuel but we only used it for emergencies and this wasn’t one.

Keith didn’t question why we pulled the car to a dock. He looked on the horizon and saw our yacht. Originally white with a blue trim, it had gotten dirty because we didn’t have a pressure hose to clean it. Now it was off-white.

              The sailing yacht had originally been called
A Million Delights
, which probably reflected the price. Grace said it was probably worth about 2-3 mil. Not worth anything now but to us it was priceless.

             
We had limited electricity. Henry couldn’t convert the engine to biodiesel because he needed a kit. We only used the motor for a hard port. We stole what fuel we could from other gas stations, boats or trucks. We conserved and rationed as much as we could because oil wasn’t coming out of the ground anymore. I remembered the time before. Americans were never willing to ration, it was a god given right to have excess. Now we would learn to work with less, at least for gas and food. I could steal 100 tablets but they wouldn’t be worth a thing.

             
The boat wasn’t far. The bay had a fifteen foot drop twenty feet in, and the boat was anchored thirty feet from that.

When we pulled out, Dave, who was on look out, waved and tossed a ladder down. Dave barely tolerated me because even as the town slut I never gave him a pity fuck. I never liked him. He called people names behind their back.

Tanya doesn’t think anyone knows but everyone does, that she sometimes shares her bed with him and visa-versa. I know because Olive, Dave’s dog, barks when he’s not with her.

             
Mike began grabbing bags and tossed them to him, while I kept the boat steady. When he was finished, I tied up the dinghy and climbed aboard.

             
It was a little warmer on the boat but still bitterly cold. Dave seemed surprised when we both came on board since one of us had to shore to get the others.

             
“What’s going on?” he asked with concern in his voice.

             
“Everyone’s okay. We need to talk to Tanya.” Dave didn’t reply. I shivered while walking across the deck passed dirty lounge chairs and storage lockers. I opened the sliding doors that lead down to the salon. I felt relief at the warmness, even if it was only slightly warmer than outside.

             
Tanya sat at the table reading an
Idiot’s Guide to Boating and Sailing
she got from the Montauk Public Library. No fines anymore. Tanya had dark brown skin and short nearly shaved black hair. Grace and I were the only women that kept our hair long but I kept it shoulder length. Grace loved her long blond hair that reached to the middle of her back, despite that it being something a zombie could grab on to.

Tanya acted older but she was young. She never mentioned her age but I knew it was the early 20’s, maybe even as young as 20. Not the best thing to have all this responsibility, but she lived a harsh life and grew up fast. Grace was Tanya’s age as well. And I knew she was only 20.

              She seemed reluctant to be leader having inherited it from Rachel who had committed suicide. Rachel took over from Abe who also offed himself. I thought Tanya was less worried about leadership and more that she might follow in their footsteps. I didn’t think so. She had a strong personality, one much more suited than Abe who couldn’t let go of the past and Rachel who couldn’t deal with being a carrier of the zombie virus.

             
Lately Tanya’s been playing it safe. She didn’t want to risk finding a house to keep warm for the winter or trying to sail down south. Tanya, who used to hate cabin fever, and was perfectly happy to leave for a hunt, had become a school marm. I think she wanted Mike or Jim to take over. Jim shied away and while Mike wouldn’t leave us to the zombies, his priority went first to Hannah, his daughter Dena and the two kids that they have pretty much adopted. He never lets them go on any trips. Dena argued about that all the time. That and sleeping arrangements. I often found her asleep on the deck, in the storage room and once in the bathtub. She needed freedom. I knew Mike was being overprotective. He didn’t want to lose his family like he lost his son. Jim told me, Mike never mentioned him. I didn’t even know his name.