Isolation (Book 2): Going Out Read online

  He was almost finished loading the truck at around the same time he'd gotten done yesterday. He supposed being slowed down by his sore muscles from the previous day's work had been balanced by the fact that he'd worked more quickly and efficiently today, especially with the lighter food items.

  Ideally, once Nick's muscles got used to this sort of work he'd be able to work quickly and not be completely beat by the end of the day. He might even get the process down fast enough to get two truckloads a day.

  Although he wasn't sure he wanted to be rewarded for working faster by doubling his workload. Not unless it was really necessary.

  “Just a few more trips and I think we'll be ready to go,” he told Tallie, turning towards the door with his arms full of boxes of candy bars. “Do you nee-”

  He cut off, freezing in shock, at the sight of an unkempt man in filthy clothes with wild hair and beard standing by the back of the moving truck, peering inside. The man turned, caught sight of him, and also froze.

  Nick let his armful of food tumble to the ground and scrambled for the gun in his front pocket, cursing himself for letting his guard down. Especially since he'd left Tallie pretty much right by the door, where anyone passing by could potentially threaten her.

  The wild-looking man realized what he was doing and hastily raised his arms. “Whoa, dude, whoa. Easy.” He smiled nervously, showing surprisingly white, even teeth. Along with clothes that had once been reasonably nice, it was a sign that his circumstances had changed dramatically recently, almost certainly thanks to the Zolos crisis.

  “No need for trouble here, it's a big town,” the man continued. “We can both get what we need.” His eyes flicked to Tallie, widened with surprise, and his posture relaxed slightly. “Yeah, no need for trouble. I don't want to hurt anyone, and I don't think you do either.”

  “You're right, I don't,” Nick replied warily. That didn't stop him from taking out his gun, although he held it at his side in as nonthreatening a manner as he could. “You immune to Zolos?”

  The stranger paled slightly. “Not that I know of.”

  “Well me and my daughter are both carriers, and that truck is crawling with the virus by this point.”

  The unkempt man cursed and jumped backwards, looking even more nervous. “Thanks for the heads up.”

  Nick edged outside, looking pointedly at the contamination signs plastered all over the building. “You, um, realize that this entire town was infected, right? If you're not immune this place is really dangerous for you.”

  “Meh.” The man scratched at his beard, as if unused to having one so long. “I heard that most places with signs are actually safe. Actually the only real safe places, because the people inside went into quarantine right when the pandemic started and were never exposed.”

  “The voluntary quarantine notices, sure,” Nick said, thinking of the notices he'd put on his apartment before going into quarantine with his kids. The ones that had let those thugs know his home was safe to attack. He jerked his thumb at the nearest warning sign. “These ones, though, warn of an actual Zolos outbreak in the building. This entire town was hit hard right at the beginning, and everyone who didn't get sick was evacuated for their safety.”

  The stranger swore again, even more emphatically, backing towards the center of the gas station parking lot as if he expected the nearby buildings to attack him. “I, um, hadn't heard that.” He looked around with genuine fear. “I guess the town is all yours after all.”

  “You could head to Stanberry,” Nick suggested. “They've got a quarantine camp there where they're helping anyone who comes their way.”

  “That's almost 40 miles,” the man said, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Unless I could get a ride, and not on your death truck, no offense, it would take me days to get there. Assuming I didn't starve to death first.”

  It was hard to know what to say to that, how to help the poor guy. “I guess you could try the houses that don't have Zolos contamination signs?”

  “Nah.” The unkempt stranger turned away, calling over his shoulder. “Guess I'll keep going, see what I can scrounge from places along the roads. The ones farther out are sometimes abandoned, and they're usually safe.”

  “Good luck,” Nick called after him. “Sorry I couldn't help.”

  The man waved without looking back. “You and your girl take care, buddy. Enjoy the scavenging.”

  Even though the other scavenger had seemed harmless enough, especially after finding out they were infected, Nick still watched him warily until he was out of sight. Then, deciding he'd done enough for the day, he went and scooped up Tallie from her chair and hurried out to the truck, buckling her in the passenger's seat.

  Once he'd closed and latched the truck's rolling door, he wasted no time hopping behind the wheel and getting the engine started. “Daddy, I have to go potty,” his daughter urgently informed him.

  He really didn't want her to go in one of the stores with that guy wandering around nearby; he and Tallie would both be vulnerable while he was helping her. “We'll find a spot off the road on the way back,” he promised. “Is it just number one?” She nodded. “Okay, try to hold it until we've gone a few miles.”

  “Okay,” she said reluctantly. “Hurry.”

  Nick put the truck in gear and pulled out onto the street, taking a roundabout route to avoid the other scavenger. Soon enough they were on their way home, and he was counting his blessings that he had a vehicle rather than having to walk like that poor guy.

  To ease the tense mood from the encounter, he spent most of the drive singing songs with his daughter. She loved every moment of it, and once he finally found her a spot to go potty she seemed to completely forget anything had happened in Wensbrook.

  He hadn't, though; as they drove, then while he unloaded the truck into the town's stockpile, he spent the time planning for ways to prepare for further encounters. Or ideally how to avoid them.

  First things first, he decided he'd find a place in Wensbrook to use as a shooting range tomorrow and practice with his 9mm. He'd also grab a proper holster from the gun supplies he'd scavenged yesterday, even if he had to move that storage unit's safe from Zolos date back a day, so he could spend some time each day practicing quickly and smoothly drawing and getting on target.

  He had no choice but to take Tallie scavenging with him, at least until he could pressure Darby into finding a better solution. And as long as she was there, he needed to be able to protect her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Progress

  Five days later, Nick thought he had a good system going with scavenging. He was bringing back a full truck every day, he'd filled the Norsons' stockpile and sealed it away to wait out the four weeks until it was safe, and the town stockpile was coming along nicely.

  Unfortunately, Darby seemed to think differently.

  The Mayor was waiting near the truck that morning as Nick left the shed, ready to set out. The man's presence was a surprise, but the fact that Darrel was nowhere in sight was a welcome relief.

  Although what was less of a relief was seeing Darby's obvious tension; he was pacing, hands clasped tightly behind his back, and the moment Nick emerged from the shed carrying Tallie he hurried over. “About time, Statton,” he snapped. “We need to talk about your progress.”

  Nick warily set Tallie down in her chair beneath the picnic umbrella, then went to the boundary to face the tall man. “What about it?”

  Darby began pacing again, coming closer to the boundary than he probably realized in his agitation. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days and the weight of the world was pressing him down. “To put it bluntly, word's somehow gotten out in the quarantine camp about your scavenging. We've been trying to get the people there thinking short term assistance until they move on, but now that they know we're bringing in supplies they seem inclined to settle in.

  “On top of that, we've got dozens more people arriving by the day, always more than the day before, so word about our camp m
ust be getting out to the nearby area somehow. There's over five hundred people there now, and that'll probably double within the week. We haven't been able to get in touch with federal relief efforts about managing the camp or sending us supplies, so at the moment it's all on us.”

  The man took a deep breath, pausing in his pacing to face Nick again. “So, progress. Where are you at, what do you see happening in the future, have you run into any problems and how can you increase production?”

  Nick was reeling a bit from this barrage of bad news, so it took him a second to get his thoughts together. “Well, I'm getting a full truckload every day, and I'd say the job's almost done in Wensbrook. Maybe another couple days. From there we'll need to find a new pl-”

  “What are you talking about, job's done?” Darby demanded, interrupting.

  Nick flushed at the man's tone. “I've almost finished clearing out every single business in that town of anything that might be even slightly useful to us. The place is picked clean, I should move on to somewhere new.”

  The Mayor regarded him silently for several seconds, while he did his best not to fidget under the scrutiny. “You know, my mom always used to get on my case about how I eat fried chicken,” the man finally said.

  Caught blindsided by the non sequitur, he blinked and lost the train of his argument. “Um, what?”

  The tall man continued blithely. “'Henry!' she'd tell me, 'you've left half the meat on the bones!' Then she'd make me tear off every bit of gristle from around the joints until the bones were completely clean, and at least try to chew the inedible stuff before I spit it out.”

  Ah, okay. So the Mayor was using a ham-fisted metaphor. “I've done as much in Wensbrook as I'm comf-”

  Darby again interrupted him, voice hard. “There are hundreds of houses left in that town, untouched from when their residents evacuated on short notice. Pantries, food storage, gun cabinets, medical and cleaning supplies, hardware and tools. Compared to what you could grab from them, you didn't get jack from a handful of businesses.”

  “Those houses are people's private homes!” Nick protested.

  “Dead people,” the man shot back. “People resettled to a new place and a new life. Which makes what they left behind available for people who actually need it.”

  “That doesn't sit right with me.”

  “I don't care!” the Mayor exploded. “We're the only town in the area taking in refugees, and they're coming in droves largely thanks to your scavenging efforts! The quarantine camp is almost half the size of the town itself by now, and it'll be twice as big by the time we're done, mark my words. We need everything you can find, as quickly and efficiently scavenged as possible. You can't afford to leave stuff sitting right on our very doorstep.”

  Nick didn't have a good answer for that, but he still didn't like it at all. He folded his arms.

  Darby sighed, trying another tack. “Look, we've put a lot on your shoulders. You're basically on your own doing a job that half of us should be helping with. So maybe it's time you got that help.”

  He squinted. “Meaning . . .”

  The man waved to the southeast. “We've got a few dozen people in the quarantine camp who survived Zolos, just like you and your daughter did.”

  “There are Zolos survivors in the camp?” Nick asked, surprised. He would've thought they'd definitely be turned away.

  “Darrel thought it would be better to have them where we could keep an eye on them, rather than wandering around and potentially trying to sneak into town.” The Mayor grimaced. “Although most of them aren't doing much of anything since they can barely move. They've got eight people who were pretty much immune, like you, who're taking care of the rest, with a bit of help from a few people who came through the illness in better shape and can at least do a little.”

  Nick supposed it made sense that at least a few people in a quarantine camp would've gotten sick. “So what does that have to do with me?”

  Darby straightened his shoulders determinedly. “I've talked it over with the eight healthy Zolos survivors. We're going to give them extra supplies, and in exchange three of the immune women will stay behind with the healthier patients to care for the rest. The other two women and three men have agreed to separate themselves from the others to live with you and your daughter. They'll help with the scavenging, in exchange for holding back enough for themselves and the other Zolos survivors to get by in the future. Kind of like what you're doing for your family and the Norsons.”

  Nick felt his stomach sink. He'd been sort of hoping that the scavenging would be a short term thing, but it certainly wasn't sounding that way.

  He was well aware that as long as he was out working in areas where Zolos had been, nobody would consider him safe to be around until he had been properly isolated for three weeks from the last time he went out into the world. He'd been hoping once he finished in Wensbrook he'd be able to rest on his new supplies and wait it out with Tallie so they could rejoin Ricky.

  And Ellie when she finally got out of that quarantine camp in Colorado and made it here. Soon, fingers crossed.

  But at this rate he and his daughter were going to be outcasts, with the town deliberately adding to their numbers, for the foreseeable future. And regardless of his contributions to Stanberry, he wasn't blind to how most of the people there had to view him.

  There was nothing personal or malicious about it, but in Nick's comings and goings from the town's stockpile he was getting the distinct feeling he was a second class citizen. Like the tanners or undertakers or men who carted off night soil for disposal in medieval cities; tolerated for the service he provided, but nobody wanted to be around him.

  Although it was even worse, because people knew he was essentially looting an infected town where friends and family had likely lived. Even if it was at the orders of the city government, they probably had to be thinking that if disaster struck closer to home he might one day loot their house if Zolos killed them.

  Hard not to resent someone like that.

  All things considered, this was no life for Tallie. Being separated from half her family for long periods of time, becoming a permanent fixture in an encampment of outcasts, was unacceptable.

  This is just short term, Nick told himself. Eventually Zolos would die off or be contained, or better yet the government would finish their vaccine and everyone could be inoculated. For now he had to do what was necessary to survive.

  As a last resort if this looked like it was taking longer than he could tolerate, especially when Ellie got here and demanded to be able to hold her daughter sometime in the next few months, maybe he could talk to the Zolos survivors in the quarantine camp. Convince them to take Tallie in with their 21 days quarantine period.

  For the moment, though, he had a decision to make. Although really it wasn't much of a decision at all; if Darby had other immune people available, he didn't really need him. If he refused to scavenge then the others would still go out in his place, and if he was lucky Stanberry's leaders wouldn't kick him and his kids out after all since he was no longer useful.

  And all the refugees in the quarantine camp would have that much harder of a time without the supplies he helped bring back.

  Nick felt his shoulders slump in defeat. “At least promise me that if me and the other scavengers do a good job, once we finally have a chance to go through our quarantine period Stanberry will welcome us with open arms.”

  The Mayor's expression softened, and he glanced towards where Ricky stood outside his tent, watching the conversation. “All of you have friends and loved ones you want to be reunited with, Mr. Statton,” he said gently. “I know the sacrifice you're making, helping us even though it prolongs how long you're separated from them. Stanberry won't forget that sacrifice, and as far as we're concerned you're already valued citizens.”

  The man might just be blowing smoke, but he certainly sounded sincere. Staring at him thoughtfully for a few seconds after he finished speaking, Nick realized he wa
s willing to entertain the possibility that he might've misjudged Darby.

  Sure, things between them had started off about as antagonistic as they could get, what with the man trying to run him and his children out of town. But even though Nick had been on the receiving end of that, he could understand Darby's desire to protect the town and people he had responsibility for.

  That rocky start was probably why he'd butted heads with the man so much over how he'd go about scavenging; even though he disagreed with many of the Mayor's positions, his own arguments had been emotional as often as rational based on his dislike of the man.

  But in spite of all that, he'd had to work with the Mayor for a week now. And from what he'd seen, even in moments of vulnerability like this Darby was mostly genuine. There was no pretense, and not much political posturing to look good for his electorate.

  The Mayor sincerely seemed to care for his town and its people, and he was working himself to the bone for their welfare. He even seemed to want to help the people in the quarantine camp in any way Stanberry could, in spite of the burden it placed on his town and the danger it presented its people.

  If the man's only faults were that he was aggressive about keeping away threats to Stanberry, and he put the welfare of his people first as a matter of responsibility to them in his position of authority, well . . .

  Most would argue those weren't exactly faults. Nick could admit he was guilty of the same when it came to his responsibility to his kids, and he wasn't about to apologize for that. He supposed he could thank Ellie for always insisting on looking at things from the other person's perspective, no matter how unreasonable it seemed.

  A little understanding solved a lot of misunderstandings.

  “All right,” he said. “As long as Mr. Norson agrees to host the extra people on or near his property, you can send them over. We'll strip every last bit of meat off the bone scavenging in Wensbrook, including the houses.”