Resistance

Chapter Five

          Five

          “Grocery store,” Cole suggests.

            “Too big for two people,” Jagger protests.

            “Drug store.”

            “Not enough food.”

            “Wal-Mart?”

            “Do I even need to explain to you how ridiculous that idea is?” Jagger’s arms are folded across his chest in aggravation at Cole. I’m not surprised though. All morning Cole has been making plans that are just to make me, a novice as Jagger calls it, end up dead.

            “What about a 7/11?” Cole sighs, pointing out one of the school’s windows. Sure enough, down the street there’s a convenience store. It looks completely normal except that the front window has a gaping hole in it.

            Jagger opens his mouth to respond but Emily quickly raises her voice. “You’re never going to be satisfied. We can see it from here, it’s not a big deal. It’s not like the girl has a chance, anyways.”

            “Thanks,” I mutter, not quiet enough for only Bullet to hear. He nudges his head into my thigh and I stroke his head.

            I know she heard me but Emily ignores my words. She stares at Jagger, her hands on her hips and he stares back. To me, it looks like they’re speaking telepathically.

            “Fine,” he finally says, throwing his hands in the air. “Go get the things ready.”

            A short time later Cole and I each have a fairly large and empty backpack, jackets that cover our bare arms and a simple list of things we need to get. As we stand at the front doors of the school, the one’s I came through when Jagger rescued me, I watch Cole load a rifle and realize I’m defenceless.

            “Where’s my shotgun?” I ask before we open the doors.

            Cole shoots me a look as if to say, “Are you kidding me?”

            “We don’t trust you yet,” Emily says, glaring at me. “So unless you’d like to search the whole school for your gun, you go out there and make sure you get what we need.”

            I turn to Jagger, my hands balled into fists at my sides. They want me to go out there defenceless and risk my life with no protection. Are they insane? I’ll get myself killed, no doubt. But maybe that’s exactly what they want.

            “Get me my gun,” I tell Jagger sternly. He studies my face, but doesn’t respond. Either he agrees with the others on this one, or they told him to keep his mouth shut. Apparently majority rules in the apocalypse