Still no signs of people.
I stick to the outside of the campus, carefully checking around each pile of rubble for some sign of human habitation, but I find nothing, just more debris. I circle the area again, going farther to the center of campus, but again, there is nothing of note. It’s getting late. I’m frustrated, and I’m about to give up completely. Maybe Sam was wrong about the location. Maybe he hadn’t heard them right about a school campus. He’s a simple kid, and for all I know, he wasn’t anywhere near this area.
Maybe he even lied to me.
I don’t really believe that. Sam doesn’t even seem to be capable of lying, but these are strange times, and people no longer behave as they used to.
Looking up at the sky, I realize there are only a couple of hours of daylight left. I either need to find myself a place to sleep for the night, or I need to head back to Chuck and Christine.
I take one last look around the back of what I think used to be the old engineering building. There aren’t any signs of people, but someone has definitely been through the area, looking for valuables. Many of the chunks of brick and concrete have been moved alongside the remaining building. There is also a small pile of wires coiled neatly off to the side. As I check them out, I hear something near the street.
I duck behind a brick ledge that once decorated the front of the building. Coming up the sidewalk are two men dressed in T-shirts with jackets tied around their waists. They each have a large pack on their backs, and one of them carries a canvas bag that looks heavy.
I don’t recognize either of them. One is short and in his mid-forties, and the other is tall and lanky with a baby-face—definitely younger than the short man, but I can’t determine his age. I keep myself out of sight as they go by.
“I just hope this is enough,” the older man says.
“It’s gotta be,” the tall one replies. “Two packs of D-cells, boxes of ammo—that’s all high demand shit.”
“Yeah, but Caesar’s prices keep going up.”
“He’s got the market cornered, and he knows it.”
I lick my lips as my heart starts to pound. I can feel adrenaline rushing through me as I hear the older man speak Caesar’s name. I wait for them to pass the brick ledge, then make my way along to the end of it, still crouching. I watch them continue their course up Bobby Dodd Way, heading between the buildings instead of turning left with the street.
I follow as far behind as I dare. I can’t risk being seen, but I don’t want to lose them either. They’re both focused on the path ahead of them and their conversation, and they aren’t watching what’s going on around them, which works in my favor. I get up a little closer, but can’t hear any more of their remarks.
They make their way toward a huge pile of rubble. I’ve been in this area before, but the destruction of the building is so complete, I hadn’t gone close to it. As they approach a large pile of debris, I hang back, peering out from around a pile of broken cement.
The older man reaches into the debris near a piece of dull red cloth. I narrow my eyes as I watch him produce a cow bell on a string. He rings it twice, and the rubble begins to shift. A perfectly camouflaged door opens in the center of the pile. A bearded man with a shotgun peers out before motioning the two men inside.
I stand slowly as they disappear into the huge mound of debris. I blink several times, trying to make sense of what is before me. I look around the area in front of the mound and realize it’s grassy, not concrete. This area wasn’t a building at all, but a field.
They’ve constructed a camp out of trash.
I walk the entire perimeter, keeping myself out of sight. Now that I know what I’m looking for, I can see that the rubble all around the area has been moved from its original location and pulled up tight against the collapsed buildings to form a barrier. At a glance, it looks like any other building on the campus—crumbled and useless—but looking closer, I can see the deliberate placement of every item.
They’ve walled themselves in.
As I study the whole area closely, I find two other obvious entrances. The first appears to have once been the entrance to a parking lot. There are the remnants of a pay station and a gate. The actual entrance is hidden but not as well as the one in the front where the two men entered. I make sure I don’t get too close. There are several places around that look like they could
be used to guard the entrance. I can’t see anyone actually guarding anything, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
It’s the second entrance that has me intrigued.
The building was once a fast-food chicken place. It has been completely leveled except for the far wall, which butts up against the man-made wall of rubble. There is plenty of cover, so I can get a lot closer to it. I’m certain I’m in the cooking are of the restaurant, but none of the fryers or grills are in the wreckage. They’ve likely been pilfered and taken into the main camp behind the rubble wall.
That’s where I find the other entrance.
It’s not constructed, per se, but looks more like a leftover, as if those who grabbed the useful restaurant items and took them inside forgot to fill in the hole again when they were done. I don’t see any signs of recent activity—the area is covered in dust but not footprints.
I move closer, gun drawn, and try to remain silent. The hole is about three feet wide and four feet tall—roomy enough to shove equipment through but not comfortable to walk. I step inside, bracing myself in case I run into someone, but I don’t.
There’s a short tunnel beyond the entrance—about six feet long—and then a sharp turn. I can’t see beyond it, so I make my way slowly through the tunnel to look. On the other side, I pause. I’m blocked by stacks of crates. There’s only about a six-inch gap between them and the tunnel.
On the other side, I see movement. I can’t see their faces, but I can hear two distinct voices.
“We need to inventory the rest of the canned goods and the bottled water.”