A Matter of Days (14 page)

“Can’t sleep either?” I asked, sliding down the wall to sit beside him.

“Nah, I figure I’ll have time to sleep a lot this winter.”

“What are you reading?”

Zack turned the book over and showed me the cover. “It’s the mechanics of old water pumps—I’m trying to figure out how to restore the water supply here. Or at least find a way to start a new one. How’s your brother?”

“Sleeping with Al snuggled on the pillow next to him. Our mom would freak out.”

“It’s good for him to have a buddy, though.” The unspoken thought was if Twawki died at least he’d have the bird.

“How’s he doing?” I nodded toward Twawki.

“I just changed the IV—it’s the last bag we have, so we’re gonna have to get meds into him another way soon.”

“Will he make it?”

“He’s a tough dog. He made it this far, I think he’s got the will to live. That’s maybe more important than anything else.” There was so much Zack wasn’t saying.

“How are you, Nadia?” He closed his book and asked the question with an expression that said he really wanted to know the answer.

I wanted to be flippant, but I couldn’t find the strength. “Really tired.”

“You can sleep. You’re safe here.”

“Are we?” My thoughts flashed to the train station, to the grannies, to the nightmare newscasts I’d watched while the world still broadcast media in real time.

“Have you seen others?” Zack asked, as if I was late to the revelation.

I nodded. “We passed a train station about seventy miles from here. Someone lined up survivors and shot them all in the head.”

I don’t know why I expected Zack to be surprised, but he wasn’t.

“You and your brother had a house and food while the world fell apart?”

I swallowed. “I guess. Yes, mostly.”

Zack’s expression grew distant, like he was shutting off memories before they could surface. “The disease didn’t destroy
the world—the people were far worse. Panic and fear make people less than animals.”

Would I ever forget?
“Where were you?” I asked.

“L.A. Los Angeles, the city of fallen angels.” Zack snorted.

“And where’d you live?”

“The streets mostly.”

My eyes were drawn to the ink that doodled and slashed his arms like inkblot sleeves. No colors, only lots of black lines in shapes that connected and crawled.

“Does that scare you?” he asked, his eyes glued firmly on the book.

There was a time when, yes, I would have been scared out of my mind to sit this close to him. “Not anymore.”

“But you wouldn’t have talked to me before.” Zack shrugged like he’d expected me to be that judgmental.

“Probably not. But you wouldn’t have talked to me, either, would you?” I raised my eyebrows.

He chuckled. “Pretty, clean girl like you? Nah, I wouldn’t have known what to talk about.”

I smiled reply; my cheeks felt stiff and unused. The silence wasn’t awkward, though I felt blood rush to my face as he continued to study me.

“Did you get sick?” Zack finally asked.

“Yeah, both of us, but then we got better and stayed that way.” While I was sick, Rabbit was too—it all blurred in a fever haze of nightmare-like flashes.

He nodded. “I kept thinking I had a headache, or it was coming on, but nah, just didn’t like being left out.” He laughed. “How fucked up is that?”

In this world? Kinda normal
. I smiled. “Did you ever—” I
broke off, unsure how to voice my question. Did he ever wish he hadn’t survived? That he could have died just like everyone else and not been left to deal with all this?

“Do I wish I’d died, you mean?” Zack pressed.

I nodded.

“When I was in L.A., the place was ripped apart. Fires burned out of control and there was nothing to find or scavenge in other parts of the city. People started killing people who looked sick and piling up their relatives outside to try to protect those who remained healthy. Stores were emptied. Riots broke out. Looting was normal and everyone in my neighborhood already had guns before this started. Guys started walking around with multiple weapons slung over their arms and shoulders. Every street was guarded for a while by someone. Then fewer and fewer.

“The day my last friend—a guy I’d known forever—died, I took off with a new friend who wasn’t sick either … not then. Kept walking, moving, stealing cars. Hiding when they did the roundups.”

“Roundups?” His new friend must have died too, because Zack was alone here.

“Didn’t the soldiers come to your place?”

Those were soldiers?
“Once maybe, but we thought they were just criminals.”

“Maybe, who knows. Mostly, I traveled at night. Before, my skills took care of me in the city. Not much I knew works out here.”

“Nobody is prepared to live like the pioneers.”

“Who?”

“Oh, like hundreds of years ago—no power, no appliances.”

Zack nodded. “Uh-huh, that’s why I decided I needed a
place, a farm and crap. I used to think school was for morons, but now books about history are guidebooks. You know? How to survive without your cell phone or the Internet.”

“
How-to for Mega Dummies
?” I offered.

He nodded. “So I found a place with no one left. Named it, started to make it mine.”

“There are plenty of farms around here. Why the town?”

“I need to live off supplies for a while, right? Gather information and stuff. I can plant a garden in the town square—it’s not like I need acres this summer. Acres, jeez, I didn’t even know that word two months ago, let alone what it meant and what to do with it.”

I nodded. “I know more about how other people lived now than I ever wanted to.” Breaking into people’s homes was a necessity, but I still felt like Mom would ground me if I was caught.

“It’s kinda fun, too, though, right?”

In a way it was, in a way everything that used to matter didn’t, but it was still odd to think about no bills to worry over and no money to exchange. Maybe Zack knew how the gold and medicine currency worked. As I opened my mouth to ask, he interrupted me.

“The thing is, I can’t do all that by myself anyway. There are cows down the road and a bunch of chickens I’ve tried to round up and put in a fence. I need to move them closer before winter—I was thinking the school gym might make a great barn for them all. But I’m no freakin’ cowboy.”

I laughed at his rueful expression.

“Yeah, I know, a city rat worrying about cows surviving a blizzard. But hey, they survive, I survive.”

“I like cows—milk, cheese, ice cream?”

Twawki stretched and we both stood to check on him. The IV bag was empty, so Zack removed the needle and wrapped his leg. Twawki thwacked his tail and tried to kiss Zack’s face.

“How’d you learn to use a needle like that?” I asked him.

The smile left his face and he sobered. “If I tell you, it’ll change how you look at me. I’d rather not.”

“Drugs?” I asked. It made sense, given what he’d told me about his life in L.A.

Zack nodded.

“That’s what I thought.” I tried to keep my expression clear of anything he might read as pity or revulsion, because it really didn’t change how I saw Zack.

He turned away slightly, his shoulders back and his spine straight. “It was a long time ago and a whole other world. I never put that shit in my body, but where I lived, the people I knew—”

“It’s okay. I get it.”

“I’m not sure you do.”

I reached out and touched his arm. Just a whisper-light reassurance, like I’d give Rabbit, only I didn’t feel like Zack’s sister. “It comes in handy now, right? How am I going to rag on you for that? It’s more of a skill than writing an essay on Shakespeare, which was my claim to fame.”

“Thanks. Shakespeare?” He grinned.

“Writing essays. I used to make extra bucks writing them for classmates.”

“Wow, you must be on the FBI’s most-wanted list.”

“Essays of mass destruction? Not likely.”

“Come on, let’s go raid the snacks. Want some pretzels?”

“Sure.”

Dawn came much too early each day, but with the rise of the sun, the chores began.
Chores
. Zack called them chores like he was already a farmer.

Over the next few days, the three of us settled into a rhythm of cleaning out all the supplies in the buildings that Zack had already cleared of the dead.

He didn’t want me, or Rab, to touch the dead and I didn’t feel the need to protest too much. Turned out Zack had different rooms of the town hall designated: bedding, clothing, medical, books (nonfiction only), camping equipment, propane tanks and fuel, weapons, seeds, and gardening tools. We hauled and stashed, making trip after trip with wheelbarrows and hand trolleys. It was exhausting, but it was also a wonderful way to change the pace—working physically helped me sweep more of the cobwebs from my brain. Being in the sun and fresh air, if we were upwind from the body-fire, made me feel a little more alive even as my muscles ached with use. When we finished, we marked the houses done on the maps Zack hung in his command central.

Rabbit became camp cook and took great delight in trying to make new flavor concoctions with supplies in tins, cans, jars, and tubs. The day we found a rooftop garden with fresh lettuce and peas caused joyful happy-dancing among us all. I missed salads and fruit. Yeah, I missed broccoli. Not so much brussels sprouts, but give me time.

In the evenings, Rabbit read from
The Swiss Family Robinson
while Zack and I trolled his how-to library for useful tidbits. We didn’t talk about leaving.
Not yet
.

Zack held up what looked like four leather cups. “Hey, do you think you can put these on the dog?”

“He’ll let me,” Rab said. “What are they?”

“Shoes. Padded soles with rubber on the bottoms.”

I picked one up and held it to the light. “You made this?”

“Yeah, thought he might walk around more if his feet were protected a little.”

“It’s a great idea.” My heart thudded at his kindness.

Rabbit leaned down and strapped them on Twawki. After a thorough sniffing and checking, the dog put his head back down. “Guess they’re not that different than the socks? Come on, boy, stand up!” Rabbit leapt to his feet and crossed the room. “Twawki, come!”

Rolling to his feet, the dog stood uncertainly, then stepped with more conviction. His tail lifted and wagged and he lumbered over to Rabbit with his tongue hanging low and a long line of drool dripping down onto the floor.

He looked like he was ice-skating, or prancing like a show horse.

We all laughed and he made the rounds among us, giving kisses as he got used to the feel of his shoes.

“We’ll still have to change his socks until the wounds are healed, but at least he’s got some protection from the elements.”

“Thanks, Zack. Those are so cool.” Rabbit knocked Zack’s knuckles with his fist.

“You’re really good at making things,” I noted.

“Need is a good motivator.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I wasn’t walking into a mall and buying what I needed, so if I didn’t want to steal it, I had to make stuff work for me.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a saint, Nadia—I stole plenty.”

“I’m sure.”
But it means he doesn’t necessarily do the easy thing. Easy doesn’t mean right
.

By the fifth day, Twawki was a different dog. He started eating anything within reach, walking, and lying in the sun while we worked. He even chewed on a rawhide bone that Rabbit found in a house full of dog toys. Al stayed on Rabbit’s shoulder and serenaded us with goofy pop songs as we went about our jobs.

By the end of that week, Zack found four more houses containing no remains, so there was even more to collect and distribute. While I focused on the essentials, Rabbit looked for luxuries he missed. After finding Monopoly, Life, and an ornate chess set, he started teaching Zack how to play chess after dinner.

It was easy to let myself forget about leaving. It was tempting to stay. We could always go next spring.
But what if we get to Pappi’s and he’s dead and there’s nothing at the mine?
At least here we had a place to call home, food to eat, and a good chance of seeing this time next year.
Assuming we don’t get sick, or hurt, or a group of criminals arrive to evict us. I need to tell Zack about the plan. Bean’s plan
.

Busy sorting medical supplies, I didn’t hear Rabbit hovering at my elbow. “Nadia, are we gonna ask Zack to come with us?”

I paused, but didn’t look at him. “What do you think?”

“I think we should. He’s our friend now.”

I nodded. “I’ve thought about it too. He’s definitely been our friend.”

“So, when are we leaving?”

“Are you in a hurry?” I swallowed over a sore spot in my throat, trying to ignore it.

“No, but I think as soon as Twawki is better we need to keep going. We’ve already been on the road for two weeks. We’re not even half there yet.”

“Let’s give him a few more days. His feet are healing, but they’re still raw wounds.”

“Okay. So?”

“So?” I leaned my back against the cans and turned to study my brother. He’d grown another inch and his hair was going from military buzz cut to a frizzy cloud. Streaks of dirt riddled his arms and cheeks.

He snorted like I was being particularly dumb. “Are we going to tell Zack?”

I wanted to. So badly, I wanted to tell him everything. Every single detail. “Yeah, I think we have to tell him, but we can’t tell him why, or where we’re going.”

“Why not?” Rabbit frowned, shaking his head.

“Because Bean said not to.”

“But Bean hasn’t met Zack. Why would he leave here if he doesn’t know why?”

“You think he might come with us?”

“Maybe. I hope so.” Rabbit stuffed his hands in his pockets.

That’s a very good point
. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” Al answered me. “Okeydokey, have a smoky.”

We giggled. “Al looks better.” I noticed he had feathers growing in on his neck. He’d been rotating between both boys’ shoulders and Twawki’s head. He’d started preening and eating, even bobbing his head to the songs he sang.