Those Who Remain (Book 2) (23 page)

But it never is.

The Geek XI

January 8th, Friday, 3 pm

“Says the man who killed his own mother.”

As I watch Lily and Roger carry the girl inside the school, Linda’s voice echoes around my mind, like a Ping-Pong ball from Hell. Like a tape stuck on repeat.

I feel dizzy. Nobody had… Hearing someone say that to my face, so easily and with so much venom feels like a deserving punch in my gut. She’s right; I did kill my own mother. Who am I to say anything?

With hands in my pockets and eyes on the ground, guilt crawls its way inside me. Yesterday that kind of talk would bounce back, not even reaching my ears. Lily woke me up again. The problem with that is I get to feel awful about other peoples’ opinions too.

I think of what Frank said about Louis. About how I didn’t give them any chance.

He’s right. I didn’t. Why can’t I see myself locking the girl up like I did with Louis? It’s easier to let Lily make the decision. If she’s wrong about the feral girl, then that’s on her. I don’t want to be the one responsible for anyone ever again.

For a long time, I stand and look at the ground. Then, from the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a man wearing an Army uniform.

Taller than Frank, he stands next to a black SUV and Roger’s police car, arms crossed. His eyes are fixed on me. Something about his imposing attitude unnerves me a little. I have never seen him before, and I don’t think Redwood has anyone still serving in the Army.

Intrigued, and a little worried, I walk by the cars. I survey the SUV, looking at the backseat full of bags. A metal briefcase glimmers against the winter sun. For a second I wonder if it’s the bald Professor’s briefcase, but that would be impossible, right? He left a long time ago.

The man marches toward me with his eyes narrowed. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah… Who are you? If you don’t mind me asking. I don’t think I ever seen you here before.”

From his frown, he does mind. “I’m not from this town.”

Obviously.
Nice dodge, pal.
“I figured that. So who are you?”

He stares at me, mouth shut.

I let out a brief, nervous laugh. “Not very forthcoming, are you? What are you doing here?”

“Passing by.” He crosses his arms over his wide chest. “What are you doing near my car?”

“Just checking it out. Nice ride.” I point at the SUV. “Lots of loot too. You are a lucky guy to have all of this.”

“Yes. And I intend to keep it. All of it.”

His monotone and small eyes freak me out. Also, I’m half his size and his arms are as thick as logs. “Sorry, didn’t mean to step on any toes here. Just… curious. We don’t get many visitors.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No infected either?”

“Ah, sometimes, but we deal with it.”

“How?”

I gulp. “Why? Are you infected?”
Please don’t be.

“No.”

Silence. I clear my throat. “Good to know. So you were in the Army?”

“I
am
in the Army. Now step away from the car.”

“Look, man, I don’t need to steal your stuff, okay? I don’t appreciate you implying I’m a thief. We have a nice community going here. Peaceful.” I pause, realizing that’s somewhat a lie and he probably saw the discussion we had earlier. “Compared to other places, anyway. So… So don’t go around provoking people and starting fights. Play nice, or you’ll have to leave.”

He looks me down from head to toe. “I don’t play. Surviving is not a game, kid. You best learn this soon.”

I eye him with a frown. This stranger has no idea. “Thanks for the advice.” My voice is bitter and hard.

“You’re welcome. Now step away from the car, I have things to do.”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes, walk away and enter the school. “Rude.”

Once inside, I move next to the nearest window to watch him. He opens the car, perhaps to check if I tried to steal something, then locks it up. Glancing around, he hides a gun below his shirt and inside his belt. He leaves the car, going into the direction of the main street.

Whoever he is, he came with Roger, so at least I don’t have to panic and assume the worst, but he still looks fishy to me. Maybe I should warn Roger about this.

Instead, I decide to follow the guy around—at a safe distance that is. He moves around, looking at shop windows and watching people walking on the street. It’s almost three o’clock on a Friday and most Redwood residents are getting ready to huddle up with blankets on the basketball court’s stands for Movie Night. I’m not sure what movie they are planning on seeing. I only vaguely remember Roger asking me for a copy of the Nightfall trilogy. I don’t think I answered him, but if I did, I hope I made it clear I only brought it because I was curious about what all the fuss was. I had no investment whatsoever on who Betty, the free spirited she-wolf, would choose in the end.

(Team Ethan all the way).

Anyway, there’s a lot of movement on Main Street today, since Old Joe and other volunteers are working all day to prepare enough pizza for everyone. Small tasks like gathering milk and butter from Hank’s farm for the cheese and mashing up dough is the type of stuff people have to look forward to now, so it’s no wonder they are excited for movie night.

Of course the good folk of Redwood notice the huge Army guy moving about and, in the best example of small town behavior, they point and stare openly at him. Some, the bravest ones, even try to welcome him while also questioning his intentions. The man excuses himself quickly enough and, perhaps noticing he’s drawing too much attention, turns around a corner, venturing onto the residential blocks.

I feel like a detective in crime novel, dodging people and stepping carefully so as not to be seen. Once or twice, the guy looks over his shoulder, and I, with a theme song in my head, hide just in time.

It’s the most fun I had in a month.

My chest hurts and I stiffen at the realization.

I’m having fun at inappropriate times again. I’m being stupid and careless just to fill some movie cliché. I’m feeling good while my mother lies dead with a bullet hole between her eyes.

I’m a monster, aren’t I? I’m no better than a zombie.

Now I really want to go back to Roger’s house and find some dark hole to squirm into.

The man marches between houses, staring at people cleaning their walkways of snow. He must be surprised to see them acting like everything is still normal. I imagine he must’ve seen a load of horrible shit out there and now can’t quite trust his eyes.

I should feel proud of my success, of keeping Redwood from the reality outside, but I don’t. The only feeling inside of me is bitterness.

We, me following him a few feet away, reach the barbed wired fence. The soldier kneels next to it while I stalk him from the corner of a nearby house. I notice there are lots of holes and a few poles knocked down, leaving gaps in our defense. Maintenance of the fence is supposed to be a major priority. Roger must be really busy to not remember to check on it regularly.

Now I’m also a sucky friend, too focused on my own drama to help him out.

Finally, the guy gets up and starts walking—in my direction. He points his finger at me and then to the ground.

I guess I’m not cut out to be a cunning sleuth with a dark past and a dame waiting for me in the office.

“Why are you following me, kid?”

Without many options, I step out of my poorly disguised hiding place, with my hands in my pockets. “Well, first… I’m not a kid. I’m twenty.”

“Good for you. Stop following me around. Unless you want a bullet for your trouble.”

“Bullets would be great, actually. We are running low on ammo.” I wince as soon the words come out of my mouth. I can’t believe I told him one of our weaknesses. “That was a joke.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. “Second… You are a suspicious guy coming out of nowhere, who refuses to tell me his name, and is wondering around my town with a gun and an attitude. So, yeah, I’m following you to make sure you don’t hurt anybody. So there.”

“What was your plan if I did hurt someone?”

I raise an eyebrow and take a step back. “Is that a threat?”

“That was a question.”

“I would ninja-sneak attack you from behind with my samurai sword.”

He points at my obvious lack of sword sheath. “An invisible samurai sword?” He lets out a short laugh, relaxing his shoulders. “My name is Sergeant Nelson Tigh. My goal was to see if your town was trustworthy.”

“You need to trust us, why?”

“Well, I don’t want to be killed and used for meat, for one.” He delivers the line with a deadpan tone that makes it hard to be sure if it’s a joke or not.

“We have plenty of non-human meat to go around. So you can cross that one out.”

“I figured as much. I should go back to the school. My….” He stops, frowns, then continues, “Someone is waiting for me.”

“So you aren’t alone?”

He passes by me, going in the direction of the main street again. “No.”

I jog next to him, still very much curious. “How are things out there? There’s still an Army then?”

The Sergeant says nothing.

I let out a bitter laugh. “So they really did leave everyone else to fend for themselves. Figures.”

We reach the school again. The man enters the building and disappears from view. I search for Roger and Lily in order to tell them about the sergeant. They’re hugging in a corridor near the nurse’s office. With a lump in my throat, I stay away so as not to intrude in their privacy. After spotting me, they ask me if I’m okay and where was I.

My response is a shrug and a thumbs up. Being around them again just hurts my chest like tiny little nails piercing my skin. But they can’t know that.

The Geek XII

January 8th, Friday, 4 pm

I watch from the door, as the doctor Roger found on the supply run assures Lily the feral girl’s going to be fine. The creepy sergeant is also there, sitting near the medicine counter. The Doctor is a woman with a round friendly face and a mass of short curly hair, wearing an Army uniform too big for her. They form a strange pair: the stiff, tall military man and a gentle and short doctor.

O’Neil is lying on a bed, unconscious. Next to him, the girl also sleeps. For two sick people, they don’t look so bad. Roger stands next to his deputy’s bed with a worried frown. I feel like it has been ages since we talked, really talked. For a month he tried engaging me in conversation, and my answers weren’t longer than monosyllables. I hope he doesn’t hate me. I’m sure I deserve it, but….

“What about him, Doctor? How’s he doing?” Roger asks the lady.

“We need to keep an eye on him, but I’m optimistic, Tigh’s a good shot and managed to miss any major arteries. On purpose, I’m sure.”

I blink at the Doctor’s attempt at lightening the mood. At least, I think that’s what she’s going for. That or she has a weird sense of humor. Roger gives her a stiff nod.

“I hope this incident can be put in the past,” she continues.