~Before~
? Days Ago
“That was the worst,” I say rubbing my tired eyes. I can only imagine how red they must be and how huge the bags under them look. I avoid my reflection in the stream. At least, once daylight returns, my nerves settle down. A little.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” Mom says. “You’re a pretty amazing daughter.”
I’m too tired to respond so I just finish up the remainder of my “breakfast” (crackers and a spoonful of peanut butter). Mom rewraps her ankle and attempts to stand. The grimace on her face tells me it hurts badly. It’s going to be a long day.
“Hold on,” I tell her and comb the area surrounding our little camp ground. Tiny footprints cover the sandy areas…we had more than just the deer visit last night, each one providing me with a near heart attack. At the top of the bank I find what I’m looking for.
“Here,” I say coming back down. I snap off the extra limbs and hand my mother the long branch. “Use that as a cane.”
“Hey! That works!” she says testing it out. She’s definitely limping but hopefully this will keep a little of the weight off which, according to my Girl Scout First Aid Badge, should help it heal faster.
Most of the day is spent in the forest. I have no idea where we are going other than following my compass southwest. I hold it up, checking it like I’d checked my iPhone in the past. Compulsively—hoping it will show me something new.
“We’ll have to find some sort of crossroads,” I say an hour or so in. “I’ve got to get our bearings.”
“So we need to head out of these woods and find a road.”
“Yeah, unless we find shelter first.” I cross a pile of rocks and turn to help my mom navigate across. “Once we get to the cabin we can hole up for a while. Maybe scavenge food from some other places. If we’re lucky maybe Dad is already there and he’s got it fully stocked for us.”
“That would be nice,” she says but something about her tone doesn’t ring true. She grins as she hobbles forward but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Are you worried?” I ask. “About Dad meeting us?”
She shakes her head. “No. I know we’ll find him. Eventually—that pouch he gave you. It’s important.”
“Do you know what it’s for?” She keeps moving forward, wincing with every step. I stop her and make her look at me. “Mom, what is going on? What are you being so weird about?”
“I’m not being weird, Alex. You know how your father is…he says a lot while saying nothing at all. Sometimes he talks about his work and it just makes no sense—totally over my head. Other times…things aren’t quite so boring. If I ask too many questions he clams up.”
“Okay,” I say relating. “Do you think he’ll meet us at the cabin?”
Her eyes water and she shakes her head again. “No. If he didn’t come back to the house before we left then something else happened.”
“Something bad?”
She frowns. “I don’t know. I doubt it. I have a feeling that your father is more involved in all of this than I ever imagined.”
I think back to the paperwork on his desk. The notes and details about the E-TR Virus. Oh he’s definitely involved. “Well, where is he then?”
She presses her hand against my chest, right over the pouch. “Again, I don’t know. I’m not sure he’s able to tell us, but what he did do is make you important to all of this. He left you that information for a reason. One way or the other he will find you when he needs to. We have to trust him. Have faith that everything will be okay.”
I press my hand to her forehead, then her cheeks, looking for the signs of a fever. She sounds crazy, but her skin is cool to the touch. She pushes my hand away. “Alex, I’m fine. Okay, well, my foot hurts. I’m tired. I’m hungry. Let’s just find somewhere to sleep tonight.”
“Okay,” I agree gesturing for her to go first. I keep an eye on her, on the woods and my surroundings for the rest of the afternoon. She may not be sick but she’s not making a lot of sense. Then again, no one knew my father better than her.
Right now I needed to get us somewhere safe, once there, I could figure out if I was ready to rely on faith or not.
Chapter Fifty-Five
~Now~
PharmaCorp’s corporate offices stand tall over the banks of the Savannah River. The high walls around it and the lookout points give the impression that it’s more of a fort than a laboratory. Guess that’s what happens when you have a heads up on the apocalypse.
“That’s where we’re going?” I ask peering through the truck window. I wrinkle my nose at the ashy, burning stench that permeates the air.