"Hey. Hey, you okay? Kate?"
I felt Ian's hand touch my shoulder and give it a slight squeeze. His dark eyes met mine with an imploring gaze as though he was trying to reach me. I wasn't gone, however. I was just trying to process what I'd done.
"Kate?"
It had to be done.
I blinked and took in a short, sharp breath, and released it with a whoosh. "I'm okay." I lowered my gaze to his neck, noticing for the first time the red marks from where he'd been choked. It looked swollen and painful.
It had to be done.
"You okay?" I asked, motioning to his neck as he took a step back from me and adjusted his backpack straps.
"Yeah. I'm fine," he said, poorly hiding a grimace behind a small smile. "Lucky you got here in time."
"Yeah... lucky." I watched him bend down and scoop up his knife. He must have lost it at some point during the fight, but I could see the tip was smeared with blood.
My eyes didn't follow him as he stood straight again, instead, they lingered on the tiled floor. Spattered across the otherwise pristine, white veneer of the tiles were dozens of muddy footprints of all different treads and sizes. I swallowed hard, reminding myself that they were very likely old and probably from when the store was first raided, but my urge to run was kicking in again.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when the man who'd likely saved my life came around the corner holding the crowbar and covered in blood. He looked somewhat apprehensive as he took in the scene of the dead man on the floor and me, still tightly gripping the gun. "You guys good?" he asked.
Ian answered for me. "We're okay."
An uncomfortable silence fell upon us as we wearily eyed each other. I tried to keep thinking ahead, slowly getting more used to planning. I knew the options were to stick together or split up. We had almost no resources and from the looks of it, the new guy had nothing to offer. Still, deep in my gut, I knew that beyond my gratefulness for his help earlier, in the long run, we'd need him. We'd only survived the last ten minutes because all three of us were in the game. As much as I would have liked to have taken credit for brilliant planning, so much of our survival was about luck and numbers. We needed him as much as I was sure he needed us.
"I'm Kate," I said, offering a hand to shake his only to realize that I still held the pesticide can. It felt like nothing in my hand when I was constantly aware of the gun in the other. I was actively making sure to keep my finger off the trigger.
"I, uh, I'm Ray." His light-colored, brown eyes filled with relief. He rubbed at his blood-stained face with his sleeve, stopping at his hairline where I took in for the first time the way his short hair stuck straight up as if electrified. "Is it just you guys?"
My chest constricted at his question, but I brushed it off. "Just us for now." He quirked an eyebrow at my answer, but I didn't elaborate. "What about you?" His face immediately scrunched in pain and I felt like an idiot for asking. He'd lost someone he obviously cared about right in front of me and I still hadn't managed to hold my tongue. At the very least, I could have phrased it differently.
"I..." I watched his Adam's apple bob erratically as he reigned in his emotions. "That was my sister." His voice came out barely above a whisper, but the revelation had me reeling. He wore his grief openly to the point it was palpable. I both admired him for it and was disturbed by it.
"I'm sorry," I said, failing to find any other words to say. The tense silence started to settle back in.
"Well, I'm Ian." His introduction was blunt, but it had the desired effect of breaking off everyone's trains of thought. "We should probably move away from the body at least, yeah? Is there anyone else still moving about in here?"
The way he said it reminded me that zombies were still somewhere out there and it made me look at the body with a new sense of fear. I knew that as long as a person wasn't bitten, then death wouldn't make them a zombie. Even still, it was far past the time to go – especially since his question also reminded me there was still a woman in the store.
"Yeah," I answered him, lowering my voice despite the fact that we had already made far too much noise for it to matter. "There is still a woman. She's hurt, but alive."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ray twist his grip on the crowbar. From that gesture alone, I felt positive if we ran into her, he wouldn't let her live. I couldn't fully blame him, but there had been enough violence for one day.
"What do you want to do?" Ian asked me, taking me by surprise as he looked between me and Ray.
Does he want to find the woman?
I didn't know if I wanted to know the answer. "Let's get out of here." I took two steps but noticed Ray didn't seem interested in moving. "What are your plans, Ray? Do you have anywhere to go or anyone...?"
Ray worried his lower lip but stopped quickly when I was sure he tasted the blood that was still speckled on him. "I don't know. Isabel... I mean my sister was all that I had left. We were going to go south, but... I just don't know anymore."
I blinked away my own rising emotions. "I'm sorry about your sister," I said again, truly meaning it. "You can come with us if you'd like. We're going east."
"East?"
"Yeah. New England. Massachusetts hopefully. Do you want to come?"
He didn't hesitate long. "Okay." His eyes still shone with deep sadness but just like how he carried that emotion, it was also easy to read the small kindle of hope that my words had sparked in him.
"We don't have a lot to offer. We are almost out of food," I warned him.
He shrugged slightly. "That's okay. I think-"
He was cut off by a crash coming from somewhere in the store.
The woman's up.
Ray's head swung in the direction of the sound, but I stepped back to him making him face me, and shook my head. "Let's go."
As torn as he seemed, he gave me a stiff nod in agreement. Ian clapped him on the back, letting his knife-free hand rest on Ray's shoulder. "Lead the way," he said to Ray in the most encouraging voice I'd ever heard from him. It was almost as if he was letting Ray make his own choice of where he really wanted to go and what he really wanted to do by letting him go first.
So he'll have no regrets.
I didn't object.
Ray moved and I started to follow when a gentle tap on my forearm from Ian made me pause. His eyes were on my hand holding my gun. "You okay with that?"
I looked down at my hand for the first time and noticed its near-constant tremor. I took a deep breath and met Ian's eyes. "I got it."
"Okay." The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "Just remember to put the safety on."
Shit.
Ian followed Ray as I hurriedly found the safety on the side of the pistol and clicked it on before following them out of the store.
---
The rest of the day went without much incident. Unfortunately, we seemed to be entering an area with a greater number of people scattered about and, with all of us feeling to varying degrees emotionally and physically fried, we made the choice to find a place to settle for the night early.
We found a safe enough looking house and I used Abby's hanger on the backdoor like she'd taught me to break in. It took me a lot longer than it had her, but I found myself feeling incredibly grateful towards her even as it felt abhorrent to be using her hanger and her techniques. Once we were inside, I made myself stop thinking about it.
We scoured the house for supplies but came out empty-handed. As horrible as the day felt, however, I still was glad to have upgraded our weapons – sort of. The gun would soon be useless if we didn't find more ammo.
Ray was also a good addition. He didn't mind searching the house nor did he complain when we divvied up a can of black beans.
"So, what happened today?" Ian asked, taking a small bite of the beans. "Why were you guys being chased?"
Both Ray and I were completely taken aback by Ian's question. It had come from absolutely nowhere. The little bits of talking we'd done throughout the day had been mostly perfunctory and usually based on topics such as directions. I couldn't fathom why Ian had asked it until I noticed Ray's cheeks became pale and splotchy on his otherwise warm complexion.
Suddenly, I found all of my attention on Ray as well, very curious about the answer to the question I'd never thought to ask. "Did something happen?" I pushed.
Please let it be nothing.
Ray's seemed to struggle to find words as his gaze flicked back and forth between me and Ian. Coming to some sort of decision, he seemed to be filled with resignation. Even still, he sat up straighter as though he was preparing himself to take on our judgment.
"We stole from them."
The air left my lungs.
He continued. "My sister and I were starving. It was one can of food." He wrung his hands on his crowbar nervously. With our silence, his eyes narrowed. "What would you have done? It's not like anybody's planting crops! We can't just go to the store and grab food. You saw what I had for a weapon. Was I supposed to go hunting with a fork? We had to eat!"
I took a moment before I answered. "I understand."
The blotchiness in Ray's ruddy cheeks began to fade as he processed my words. I knew I couldn't judge him – not as our supply was rapidly running out. Everyone needed a long-term solution, in the short term we would all be desperate. If anything, his theft made me more aware of just how bad things might get. Even still, I'd be sleeping with my bag close by.
We both looked at Ian, waiting to see where his thoughts were. Ian took another bite of food before answering. "Makes sense. Better than all of that having been for nothing, I guess."
I flinched. He wasn't wrong necessarily. Violence for violence's sake seemed insane even under our circumstances, but what happened was still terrible. I caught Ian lightly grazing his fingers across the forming bruises on his neck and wondered if he was trying to find his own way to cope with his near brush with death.
Ian passed the can to me to finish. He then smiled at Ray. "Do you know anywhere else with food?"
Ray's eyes widened as his mouth fell slightly open. He quickly snapped it shut, but he still managed to look as shocked as I felt. "What? Do you mean..."
When he didn't finish, Ian continued for him. "I mean if we need to steal for food, do you know where we could find some?"
The smallest hint of a smile graced Ray's face matching Ian's. Looking between the two of them, I suddenly felt that they had an understanding of each other and I was playing catch up.
"I might," Ray answered.
"We can talk about that tomorrow," I said, taking back a little bit of control as I stood up and put the can on the side table. "Or better yet give Ian directions. In the meantime, I'm going to wash up."
I left the two of them in the family room and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, there was just enough light coming in as the sun set beyond the window to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The scrub downs we'd been giving ourselves with the soap I'd brought and small amounts of water had somewhat helped our hygiene, but, even in a ponytail, my normally light, brown hair looked dark from the grease. It was only going to get worse as our water conservation limited us to drinking and cleaning cuts. I let out a long sigh and rested my head in my hands. Thieving was getting to be more than tempting. With so few options, I had a sinking feeling we'd have to turn to it sooner rather than later.
Please let there be other options.
---
That night, as Ian took the first watch, Ray and I settled under heavy blankets we'd taken from the bedroom and set up on the couches in the family room. Even with all the layers, I couldn't stop shivering. I hardly felt like I'd rested at all when Ian woke me up for my shift.
"Is it just me or is it getting colder?" I whispered, hugging my arms around myself.
Ian made a quiet laugh that held strong notes of bitterness. "I guess our heatwave is over."
It hadn't exactly been warm, but the cold had been forgiving. I knew it wouldn't last forever, but I wasn't sure we could handle any more stressors on our plate. I knew little of Wisconsin before the last few months. One thing I did know was that the winters could be brutal. We needed the winter gear now - before it was too late.
"Stay warm," I told Ian as he took my place on the couch.
"You too." He pulled the blankets nearly over his head.
I took his place in the chair in the front hall and pulled the red scarf I'd made up over my nose and ears. At least I didn't have to worry about drifting off on my shift as even my eyebrows felt cold.
Looking back towards the family room, I hoped to see a spare blanket but instead noticed the fireplace. It gave me an idea and I pulled my pad of paper and pencil from my backpack. Both backpacks had been kept next to the chair as Ian and I had decided we didn't trust Ray enough yet to let him take a shift or be left alone with our bags unsupervised.
I flipped to my page of all the items I wanted us to find and added items to start a fire. While a fire would alert people to our location, we might not always have the luxury of choice. We needed to survive. I needed to survive.
We're so close to Chris.
As I let my mind drift to him, I heard the shuffling of blankets and looked over to see Ray rise from his spot on the couch opposing Ian's. He rubbed his eyes before looking in my direction. I gave him a small wave and he gave me one back. Turning back to the window, I heard rather than saw him join me. "Can't sleep?" I asked.
"No. Not really. I keep thinking about Isabel."
I unfortunately had a hint of understanding of what he must have been feeling. "You can pull up a chair and join me if you'd like."
He walked past me to the kitchen, grabbed a chair, and did just that. We sat quietly for a while, just staring out at the abandoned street.
"Do you have any family?" He asked after a while.
I knew he was probably just trying to distract himself, but I didn't really want to get into it. "Mmm-hmm. A mom and sister out east."
"But aren't the zombies really bad that..." He stopped himself and I was appreciative. It was all rumors at this point. Ray readjusted himself in his chair as though that would lessen the awkwardness. "So," he coughed, trying to change the subject. "How long have you and Ian been together?"
I shot him a glare. "No. I'm married. I'm looking for my husband and Ian's helping me."
Ray's cheeks looked ruddy for the second time that night, but he did his best to go with the flow. "Is your husband out east?"
"No, he's here. We are going to where he was last seen tomorrow."
Ray seemed to take that information in, sucking in his cheek. "I see. Do you know if he's okay?"
Guess it's his turn to put his foot in his mouth.
Whereas I'd mistakenly blundered earlier in the day and had come off as lacking in sensitivity, it seemed that Ray didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. I was furious – irrationally so – but I also understood that he was working with limited information. It also made me admit out loud what I didn't even really want to tell myself.
"I don't know," I stated with clipped words. Whether Ray picked up on my fury or became distracted, he dropped the subject and instead zoomed in on what rested in my lap.
"Is that a pencil?" He asked in awe. "Can I use it?"
I met his eyes and they were pleading. There wasn't a lot left of the pencil, but his yearning was so earnest it made me cave and pass it to him. It was an especially easy decision if it meant getting a reprieve from our increasingly uncomfortable talk.
He took it from me and stood to walk around the space. Finding an especially brightly illuminated spot from the moonlight, he began to draw on the wall behind me. At first, I occasionally glanced back to try and see what he was doing but gave up once I realized I couldn't see anything beyond his back. After I was sure an hour passed, I was a bit startled when he passed the very dull pencil back to me.
"Thanks," he said, sounding somewhat strained. "I'm going to go back and see if I can sleep a bit longer."
"Sure," I answered, but he was already headed to the family room with his shoulders slumped. Curious, I turned instead to the wall he was working on and gasped.
In the dim light, I could make out the lovingly crafted portrait of a woman. She was drawn as though caught in a moment, laughing as a breeze or a wind tossed her past her shoulder. Her eyes seemed alight with pure joy as she looked far off into the distance.
Isabel.
It was beautiful. Haunting. It didn't take me long to realize that was a shrine of a sort. Ray had, in his own way, found a way to bury his sister. The longer I took her in, the more uneasy I felt.
I had to find Chris.