Cruel World(123)

They’d found a stockpile of food, weapons, and ammunition in one of the offices along with a meager first aid kit that had already been pilfered of anything useful. A hiking backpack leaned against one wall near the food and weapons, its many pouches bulging with enough supplies to keep a single person going for more than two weeks.

Alice drained the last of her beer and set the can aside before motioning to the man. “What do you think happened to his foot?”

Quinn glanced at Ty and then back to her, lowering his voice. “I think it was bitten off.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah. Looked like teeth marks in the flesh around the wound. Not that you can really tell since infection’s already setting in.”

“He’s not going to make it,” she said.

“No, I don’t think so.”

They cleaned up their wrappers and cans and checked on the man again. His face was pale and dry, but when Quinn put a hand to the man’s forehead, he nearly yanked it back with shock.

“He’s burning up.”

They tried drizzling more water in the man’s mouth, but he merely coughed it back out. His breathing began to take on a liquid wheezing, so they let him be and made their own beds up for the night.

“You think one of us has to keep watch?” Alice said, tucking Ty into a sleeping bag.

“I think it’s okay if we all sleep tonight. This place is locked down really well. Any problems and we can scoot right out the door and into the car.”

They were quiet for a time as they lay down on their own blankets. The darkness around them was complete.

“Wonder what he was doing here,” Alice said finally.

“Surviving, like the rest of us.”

“Almost looks like he was planning something.”

“Like what?” Quinn asked.

“Like a trip.”

He listened to the man’s labored breathing a dozen yards away. That could be any of them lying there, wounded, dying. How would it feel to know beyond any doubt that you were going to die? The idea was one thing, but the fear, the fear was all encompassing.

“This fort-bed thing is getting kind of old,” Alice said, breaking the silence.

Quinn chuckled, and she laughed too after a moment.

“I can’t believe we made it,” Alice said.

“Me neither.”

“Not really what you would’ve picked for your first road trip, huh?”

He smiled. “It’s not what I had in mind, no.”

She was quiet for a long time. “Thank you for everything you did to get us here.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for saving my life a hundred times.”

“Ditto.” Her blankets rustled, and he imagined her turning toward him in the dark. “What if there’s no army there tomorrow?”

The question caught him off guard. Not because he’d never thought it but because he’d been thinking it for days.

“Then we find a safe place somewhere else.”

She settled again with more shushing of blankets.

“Goodnight, Quinn.”

“Goodnight.”

Sleep eluded him like a beggar with a stolen scrap of bread. He would begin to drift off then the steel loading doors would shift in the wind letting out unfamiliar clanks and clicks. Each time he would bring his hand to the butt of the revolver before relaxing again. Much later, when he’d finally found a position that was partially comfortable, another sound roused him. It was reedy and low, as if it were coming from the bottom of some pit. He sat up, images of a thousand stilts surrounding the building filling his head. Instead, he slowly made out words filtering through the darkness.

“I Royal.”

Quinn rolled to his feet and found the rifle. He flicked the light on, and it brightened enough of the space for him to move without the fear of sprawling over a low crate. He walked to the man’s side and saw that his eyes were open, the irises obscured by a thin membrane, like a fog hanging over a valley.

“Here, have some water,” Quinn said, picking up the bottle sitting nearby on the concrete. He tried to bring it to the man’s cracked lips, but he turned his head away, refusing.

“I Royal,” he breathed again, and tried to raise one of his arms.

“Your name is Royal?” Quinn asked leaning closer.

“Royal.”

The man opened his mouth wide and took in a long shuddering breath before letting it wheeze out. He spasmed several times as if trying to cure a case of hiccups, and then fell still, the last of his air leaking from between his teeth.