Year One (Chronicles of The One #1)(28)

“You amaze me, Fred.”

“Sometimes they can help if somebody wants to get out of the city. But a lot of people still here don’t want to give up the city, even if they have to fight.”

Arlys unlocked the door.

“Aren’t you going to wear a mask?”

“You know they don’t do any good, don’t you?” Arlys looked over at Fred. “You know as well as I do if you’re going to get it, you get it.”

“They make some people feel safe. I thought that’s how you felt.”

“Not anymore.”

They stepped out and Arlys locked the door. “We’re not going to get separated, but just in case, do you have your key?”

“Don’t worry,” Fred assured her.

Arlys nodded and they began to walk through air that carried the stench of burning and blood and piss.

“How many people do you estimate, Fred, you’ve seen or spoken with in these safe zones? I won’t go on air with it. Off the record.”

“I don’t know exactly. I know they’re trying to keep a count, but it changes. People come, people go. People are still getting sick. Still dying. We—they—try to take the bodies into green areas, parks, at dawn. It’s still cold enough so, you know.”

“I know.” But when the temperatures warmed again, the decay would be horrific. And those who had died indoors …

She’d caught the smell in her own building. The smell of decay.

“You can’t really have funerals or memorials, exactly. There are so many,” Fred added. “Somebody says some words, and … You have to burn them. There are rats, you know, and dogs and cats and … They can’t help it, so you have to burn them. It’s clean, and it’s kind, I think.”

“You’ve been to these … memorials?”

Fred nodded. “It’s so sad, Arlys. But it’s the right thing to do. You have to try to do the right thing, but there are so many. A lot more than they say.”

“I know.”

From under her pom-pom cap, Fred slanted a look up at Arlys. “You know?”

“I have a source, but … It’s like not broadcasting the safe zones. If I go on air with everything he tells me, they’ll stop me. And they might get to him.”

“You wouldn’t tell. You wouldn’t reveal a source.”

“I wouldn’t tell, but there might be a way to trace him from me. I can’t take the chance. I have a protocol—he gave me—if I ever go on air with what he asked me to hold back? I have to destroy the computer I’m working on, my notes, everything. And go.”

“Go where?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Because he told you in confidence.”

“That’s right. But if—”

“Shh! Hear that?” Even as she spoke, Fred grabbed Arlys’s arm, yanking her back from the corner of Sixth. “In here.”

As Fred dragged her through the broken display window of what had once been a shoe store, Arlys heard the engine.

“It sounds like a motorcycle. Raiders?”

“They like motorcycles. You can get around the wrecks.” Fred put her finger to her lips, drew Arlys away from the broken glass, into the shadows.

Arlys started to speak, but Fred shook her head fiercely.

She heard the sound of more glass breaking, wild laughter. Then the roaring engine thundered by, began to fade again.

Fred put her hand up, a wait signal, for several seconds more. “Some of them can hear like bats. And sometimes they travel in groups. You can’t take chances.”

After letting out a breath, Arlys looked around. The empty shelves ran up the walls on both sides. If there had been display tables, someone had hauled them off.

A few shoes scattered around the floor, a couple of handbags, some socks.

“I’m surprised they left anything.”

“The bad ones take what they want, bust the rest up. They’ll pee on things, even poop on them. They don’t want the stuff, but they don’t want anybody else to have it. Mostly right now, they do stuff like this.”

She led Arlys out again, walked to the corner, looked long north and long south before jogging across the street.

“They get drunk or high,” she continued, “set fires, shoot off guns. They ride around looking for somebody who doesn’t hide quick enough, or run fast enough. They hurt them. Or kill them.

“But they’re starting to hunt.”

“Hunt people?”

“Starting to go through buildings where people live. Or lived. It’s the dead that keep them out of some places. But it won’t keep them out much longer. They do the same thing, bust things up, take what they want, and look for people to hurt. Raiders.”

She stopped by an empty car.

“This wasn’t here yesterday. See, they tried to get through, but the street’s mostly blocked. They didn’t take their things. See, they tried to take too much, and couldn’t take it with them if they had to run. The market’s just down here.”

“Is this a safe zone?”

“It’s safe enough if you’re not stupid.” She smiled when she said it.

She stopped at a boarded storefront. Arlys frowned at the symbols painted over the boards. “What does all this mean?”