Heading south almost became a tempting prospect as the snowfall turned into a snowstorm. With a few windows broken in the kitchen, not even our close proximity to each other could keep us warm.
I had to make the call for us to all move into a bedroom just down the hall from the family room. Not that we'd had many options, but I was wishing we'd at least found a two-story house – or at least one with more room options. The queen-sized mattress was bare and torn, and the wooden frame beneath it was broken. Shattered glass was scattered across the floor from a large family portrait that had been knocked down.
I didn't look at the picture. Instead, we made quick work of finding a broom from a closet in the kitchen and used it to sweep up. We then pushed the broken furniture to one side of the room.
It seemed whoever had ransacked the place had also picked it over for blankets as we'd only found one faded, purple duvet stuffed in the bathroom's closet. Short on options, we ended up scouring the house for every bit of fabric we could find. By the end, we had a sizable pile of sheets, towels, curtains, and even a rug. We then closed the bedroom door, huddled together, and covered ourselves as best as we could.
It was a long day that turned into a longer night. Only Carlos and Paula in their snow gear were able to rest without bone-rattling shivers wracking their bodies. My cough had gone from sporadic to obnoxious, putting us all even more on edge. When daylight broke and the snow was still falling, a feeling of dread settled in.
There was no relief when it finally stopped around midday. The storm had left us with almost a foot of snow blanketing the earth all around us. I knew from the looks on my companions' faces that they had similar thoughts to mine.
We were trapped.
---
I had thought being trapped in my apartment for two months had been difficult. I'd thought I had some idea of what cabin fever was like. After a week, trapped in a small room with mostly strangers, I had a whole new perspective.
On some level, it was nice to get to know them. However, it had become quickly apparent that three out of the four newcomers were very opinionated – about everything. And Ian enjoyed stirring the pot.
Ray was expressive and vulnerable and still grieved his sister deeply. I enjoyed his company, but his high energy exhausted me. It didn't help that he also had a tendency to always speak exactly what was on his mind. I was thankful that at least it seemed like his heart was always in the right place.
I also observed that he had a growing attachment to Ian. The pair found fast friends in each other and Ray especially found Ian's antics hilarious – even if he was on the receiving end of them.
Prisha, on the other hand, had trouble tolerating any of us. The only person she seemed to like was Carlos. They didn't agree on much, but she smiled whenever he told stories about his life before. She revealed little about herself beyond what she'd initially told us. My only new discoveries about her were that she chewed her nails when stressed and that she was stressed... a lot.
Carlos wasn't exactly a grouch, but he lacked patience for most things. The little patience he did have he used to mull things over, sometimes to the point of obsessiveness. Even still, I'd developed a bit of a soft spot for him after watching him with Paula. It felt strange to think it, but I'd never seen a love so simple yet so profound as the love between the pair. Their comfort with each other and care for each other seemed deeply ingrained in the fabric of their relationship. Watching them sometimes caused little pangs of pain deep in my chest, but mostly, I admired what they shared.
Paula was more willing to let the other strong personalities of the group work through their issues before she would speak up. I would have called her a peacekeeper between the others, but it was more that she would let the others exhaust themselves with their bickering so she could come in with the final word. It was highly strategic and it took me a few days to catch on. She was kind, but I'd learned to be wary of her sharp edges.
The person who was really in control of the room, however, was Ian. When fighting would start, he'd let it go on, but add little comments here and there to raise the tempers in the room from a simmer to a boil. No one would ever direct their anger at him, he'd always made sure to angle everything he said so it would stick to another target. It was impressive, alarming, and infuriating, and I had no idea how he did it.
I would have intervened had it not seemed to also work a strange kind of magic over the room. Each time an argument would look like it was ready to boil over, he had the exact right thing to say that would defuse the situation. Sometimes it was a witty remark or a joke that would make everyone realize how unnecessary and silly their argument was. Other times, it would be a piece of resounding wisdom that seemed to come out of nowhere. Whatever skill it was that he possessed, I was jealous of it.
Every time I tried to reign everyone in, it was a long process of debating and reasoning. By the week's end, I found myself seeking Ian's help. It was unspoken but understood between us. I'd give him a look or a tap and he'd start managing the group's tempers. If Ian was ever bothered by my reliance on him, he never showed it. As usual, he hid most things behind his smile.
It was only on the morning of the eighth day in the room that not even Ian could keep the group in check. We were going through our supplies quickly and the arguing was so constant that I knew we'd have to risk venturing out even if there were still a good six inches of snow on the ground.
"We literally can't," Ray repeated himself for the fourth time in five minutes. "I'm not being over dramatic. The risk is just too big."
Prisha's lips pursed. "I never said you were being over dramatic. I just think that you're not seeing the bigger picture-"
"The bigger picture?" Ray looked at her, visibly offended. "Lighting a fire is just stupid-"
"Hey," Carlos cut him off. "No need to talk to her like that."
"But-"
"Guys, please." My scratchy throat was slowly recovering from my cold, but the group still had me somewhat quarantined to the corner.
"Prisha does make a good point, though," Paula said, finally stepping in. "We are getting low on water and it wouldn't be a bad idea to boil some snow while there is still a lot of it."
"But what about the smoke?" Ray asked, bringing up a valid point. "We all heard people yesterday-"
"Can't we just eat the snow?" Carlos cut in.
Paula sighed, giving her husband a look of affectionate exacerbation. "I told you a few days ago that eating snow can worsen dehydration. Remember?"
"Oh," he grumbled. "Right."
Paula gave him a sweet smile and patted his knee, before turning back to Ray. "At some point, we'll need to light a fire."
"Yeah, but-"
"Anyone got an ax?" Ian asked. He had been quiet since the last fight, so I was surprised to hear him speaking up. "Anyone? Ray? I think your crowbar could work." They all gave him looks of annoyance and confusion.
He rose from his spot on the floor to pat the nearest wall and then stood on his toes to knock on the ceiling with his knuckle. "Think we could make a chimney right here? Anyone got some dry wood? Kindling? I mean we could probably break down some furniture, but all the construction might get a little noisy. Also, does anyone actually know how to start a fire without matches? I mean, we can try, but we'll also need a way to contain the fire. Any suggestions?"
Prisha's sour look and Paula's somber one gave him the answer he needed, having not appreciated his sardonic display. He sat back down and leaned against the wall as he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "And Ray's right – we have to keep in mind that there are people nearby. Anything we do other than sit here is risky."
The room went quiet. We had both every reason to stay and every reason to go. Without a resupply of goods, we'd be in trouble, and it seemed like we would have no luck staying where we were. The problem was the amount of snow on the ground would make traveling extremely difficult as most of us still wore sneakers. It was almost worth risking, especially if the snow didn't melt, but there was also a group that we'd heard outside for the last three days.
We were in what felt like an impossible situation, but a decision had to be made. So, I made one. "Three days," I decided, leaving no room for arguments in my tone. "We'll do our best to hold out here for another three days and hope that the people move on. Even if nothing changes after that, then we'll still leave. We have to risk it for the supplies after that. Hopefully, the snow will melt a bit more in that time, too."
"Are you sure?" Paula asked. "If we get hit with another snowstorm... we won't be able to last another week."
"If it looks like it will snow, we'll leave sooner and go as far as we can. Okay?"
She didn't answer but gave a small nod of her head.
"Then, it's decided."
Three days.
I would have rather eaten my own sock than endure another day trapped in the room, but we had to try to be smart about our next move. Unfortunately, utilizing Ray's knowledge of supplies no longer seemed so far out of the scope of possibilities. All that was left for us to do was endure.
---
It snowed on the second day, but only lasted a few hours. The genuine despair we all had at the sight of it was palpable, but we still made the decision to hunker down until the third day. We hoped it would melt a little in the afternoon's sun, but it was to no avail. Around eight inches of snow awaited us on the morning of the third day.
In the early morning hours, after having been startled awake from a nightmare, I made my final decision. With the amount of snow we faced, the little supplies we had, and the potential danger of running into bad people, we needed a near guarantee that we'd come across supplies soon. The only way to have that was to find the supplies Ray already knew about.
I'd woken him up, careful not to disturb the others. Prisha had been on watch by the bedroom window but said nothing as I'd pulled Ray from the room and asked him about the supply stashes.
He only really knew of one, but he claimed it was sizable enough that he doubted the owners of it could have gone through it all. He was almost positive that there were only three people working together. His sister had wanted to rob them, but they'd lost the opportunity when they had had a run-in with another group. He was also almost positive that no one else would have easily discovered the group.
Because they're in a freaking movie theater.
I had never once thought of a movie theater as being a go-to place in the apocalypse and I had to hope most people thought the same way I did. Ray seemed confident he could get us there, especially with Ian's help. He believed the theater was probably two towns north of us and Ian seemed to agree once Ray let him in on the plan.
Ian wouldn't meet my eyes as the two of them talked about the area. I wasn't in denial about him. I knew he was hiding something, but I also trusted him. Even still, I stored the information in the back of my mind.
"Wait, why are we going north?" Prisha asked just before we stepped out of the house, not even giving me the chance to speak of the plan. "We still have to go south for a long way to get around Lake Michigan. Isn't Chicago over sixty miles away? Why would we waste time going north?"
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
I was more than a little apprehensive about the trek south and especially the idea of getting to Chicago. The was no real clear picture of what we'd face there, but we had little choice if we wanted to go east. It was already undoubtedly over one hundred miles of walking to get around Lake Michigan. We couldn't add to that journey any more than necessary.
Except for these few miles north...
I knew in my gut it was necessary and I needed them to believe it was too. "I know, but Ray knows of a place not far out of the way that was heavily stocked with all sorts of goods not that long ago. I'd like us to try for it."
"If it was heavily stocked, wouldn't it have been picked over already? How do know it's still there?"
I took a deep breath. "Because people were guarding it."
An awkward pause was left between us as Prisha took in my words. When she did speak, it was slowly and carefully. "You mean we are going to rob them."
It wasn't a question. Heat rose to my cheeks in embarrassment. I wanted to express how much I hated the idea, too, but I needed her to see things my way. "We will be lucky if we make it two miles in this snow without frostbite. Do you really think we have the luxury of stopping by every house and hoping that they haven't already been picked clean or aren't occupied? We have half a bottle of water left to split between the six of us. We'll run out of food in a week – two max. Please, if you have a better solution, tell me."
Prisha wouldn't meet my eyes, but I could see that Carlos was working his way up to saying something and I mentally prepared myself for it. "How far away is it?" he asked.
"Nine miles."
"You sure you know where it is?"
I couldn't blame him for asking after the church debacle. I looked at Ray to give Carlos an answer.
"I'm as sure as I can be," Ray said his eyes flicking between us.
"I guess that will have to be good enough." Carlos looked wary but determined. I was incredibly grateful for it.
"Well, we should head out then, right?" Ian asked, pulling his sleeve down as far it would go to cover his knife-wielding hand. "At least are most vulnerable – sorry – are nicely bundled up. Ready to treat frostbite, Paula?"
I rolled my eyes at him. He had been a bit crabby since helping Ray with directions and it was coming out sideways. At least Paula looked more amused than peeved by his teasing.
"Let's hope I won't need to."
---
Ray was the first one to show signs of frostbite. Paula blamed his crowbar as the culprit. His fingers were starting to go from a shade of bright red to an eerie white. The walk was exhausting, but the frigid air kept us motivated to keep moving. It was only after Paula spotted Ray's fingers that we made the decision to stop and by that time, we were all in the need of a reprieve. We ended up taking shelter in a trashed corner store while Paula treated Ray and expectedly, we'd only made it about three miles.
I found Ian in the back of the store squeezing his toes through his socks, trying to warm them up.
"You doing okay?" I asked.
"Oh yeah," he said, without looking up. "I'm doing great."
"The cold getting to you?"
"A bit. I lived in California the last few years, I guess I forgot how much I hated snow."
I nodded, but I was taken aback. It was only a small fact about himself, but he'd revealed so little about himself and his life before that it felt huge. I couldn't help but want to know a little more. "Where in California?" I asked.
Ian glanced up at me but then looked right back down at his feet. "Hidden Hills."
I shrugged never having heard of it, but I was almost a little giddy that he was sharing. "That's nice." He looked up at me with bemusement, making me shrug again. "I don't really know California all that well. Did you like it there?"
"Yeah," Ian answered as he put his shoes back on. "But I like the east coast better."
"Is that where you're from? The east coast I mean."
He stood straight and nodded, but I could see his expression becoming tight. "Yep. Connecticut."
"Really?" I asked with a little too much enthusiasm. "Do you still have any family there?"
I saw the exact moment Ian was all done playing twenty questions with me. His dark eyes narrowed as his smile widened. "What's with all the questions?" He asked.
"Nothing," I snapped feeling a bit defensive.
"Right. Well, how would you like it if I pried into your pre-apocalypse life?"
I scoffed. "I doubt it would matter. I'm sure Chris told you all about it anyway." I blanched. The words had slipped right out before I even realized what I was saying. From the look on Ian's face, I knew I'd hit the nail right on the head.
He rose from the ground and readjusted his grip on his knife. "The others look ready to set out. Let's go." He skirted around me and started to head towards the front of the store when I called out his name, effectively stopping him in his tracks. He kept his back to me.
"Ian," I said again in a hushed voice. "Someday you'll have to tell me what you're hiding. I know you know more about Chris's death than what you're letting on."
He stood stock still, refusing to turn around. "I know. And someday I will." Without another word, he left me and joined the others at the front of the store.