I looked around the silo. Morgan's flannel shirt was lying against the wall near the place where she used to sleep. I remembered pulling it from her dresser that night Ian shot Mr. Hershel and we'd taken Morgan to my parents' house. It seemed like months ago. I put the shirt on and buttoned it up. If I had to sleep outside again, it would be useful. It felt good to wear a piece of Morgan's clothing, too. It made me feel close to her. It gave me confidence. And maybe even a little hope.
The shirt had a tiny breast pocket. I slipped the pills inside and snapped the button.
I thought again about the ghostly stage-three girl who'd passed me on the road that morning. I thought about the new refugees, who I hoped had escaped the Home Guard last night. I thought about everyone else who had contracted the pathogen, and everyone who would contract it in the future.
Tracking down Jason might have been impossible. And making him want to sleep with me, now that he'd stood me up, might have been impossible. Trying to drug him and steal his access card would definitely be the most hopelessly dangerous thing I'd ever done. But I had nothing else to live for. And if I died trying, maybe at least it would make up for some of the ways I'd let my family down.
I had to find Jason.
A couple of miles from my parents' property was a gas station with a mini-mart. It was just on the outskirts of town.
Avoiding roads and walking under cover of the trees along the river, I was able to make it there by midday.
I approached the gas station cautiously from the riverbank, but as I got closer to the road, it was obvious that the place was totally abandoned.
On my side of the road, a sign marked the border of Muldoon township. Muldoon, POP 647, it read.I'd passed it a million times.
That's probably why I didn't notice at first that something was hanging from it.
It was a body.
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