Part 10 (1/2)

She looked up Chris. ”Wow,” she remarked, not sure what else to say. ”Do you think that's what happened to Mrs. McCormick?”

”I'm sure of it,” he replied, taking back his deck. ”And I think we should investigate.”

”Investigate?” Her father's warning came back to her. Don't trust anyone. But that was stupid. Wasn't it?

”Yeah,” Chris pushed. ”Like, let's go visit a hospital. See if they really are full.”

She bit her lower lip, thinking. ”But then we'd be exposed to the disease, right? If there really was one?”

”We already were exposed if that's what Mrs. McCormick had,” he reminded her.

”And besides, I have some respirators. We used them when painting the house last year. And we won't get too close to the hospitals, just in case. We could just go and have a look.”

She considered. ”But what are we looking for? What will going to a hospital prove?”

”Well, these reports, for one. It'll give us a better sense of what's really going on. I mean, forums are one thing, but I want to see first hand.” He paused, then added, ”Wouldn't you want to know if there's really some kind of deadly plague floating around that could kill us all?”

She sighed. Of course she wanted to know what was really going on. But she'd heard a million conspiracy theories in her day, thanks to her dad, none of which had ever panned out. Most non-government-sanctioned media outlets were just glorified rumor mills, after all. So some people were sick. Some old people were dying. That wasn't exactly enough to prove a coming apocalypse. Though her father would claim it was.

”Okay,” she said. ”I'll go with you to check out one, at least.”

She would have preferred to head over to Avery's for a round of Basketball Dayz; she was going to be totally left behind if she didn't get some practice in. And, of course, there was her nightly training with her father. But she knew Chris was really concerned, and she felt like she owed him something after him cheering her up yesterday. So what the h.e.l.l; she would go with Chris and check things out. Get back just in time for training. Then the two of them would be even.

”We'll start with Mt. Holyoke. That's the one they were supposedly taking Mrs. McCormick to, right?” Chris suggested. ”I'll go home and get the respirators and meet you there in an hour.”

Peyton nodded reluctantly. She had to be crazy to have agreed to this. ”Okay. Fine. See you there.”

She watched him walk away, part of her shrieking to call the whole thing off. Her new friend was turning out to be just as crazy as her dad.

Just go to the hospital, check things out, she told herself. They'd see for a fact that there was nothing going on, and she could say ”I told you so” to both of the conspiracy theorists in her life. Boy, would they feel like total bunglers when they realized their so-called killer plague was nothing more than the common cold.

Chapter Sixteen.

Even after years of thievery, not to mention the looting that had occurred just before the end, the Walmart still held an enormous quant.i.ty of supplies, and Chase made good on his promise to get everything gathered for their trip. By the time Peyton awoke the next day, he had a.s.sembled backpacks large and small, stuffed with essentials. He also had a few saddlebags packed to the brim with dried food, first aid supplies, and bottled water. (Tank had, Chase informed her, set up a rainwater collection system outside so they never wanted for a drink.) ”It's not everything we'll need,” he admitted. ”But it'll get us started. And I figure we'll be able to pick up some stuff along the way, too. Whatever wasn't looted at the beginning or eaten by the Others over the years. Even if the stores are bare, we can always try houses.”

”Right.” She didn't relish the idea of pawing through dead people's property, but it was certainly a better option than starving, worst come to worst. She looked over the supplies, then threw him an approving nod. ”This looks great. Thanks.”

He shrugged modestly. ”The horses are outside. I collected them earlier. I'm going to go saddle them up. Be back in a minute.”

As much as she'd originally hated the idea of this group tagging along, she had to admit it was nice to have someone else take over the reins for a bit. As Chase had pointed out the night before, while she might be a good fighter, thanks to her father's enhancements, he definitely brought other things to the table. She'd been sheltered, living underground with her mom all these years. She had no idea what the world outside was really like. As much as she didn't want to admit it, it was a relief to have Chase on board.

The kids, on the other hand, were likely to be millstones. Chase was all gung-ho to be Disney-bound, but the others weren't exactly thrilled with the idea. They were leaving the only safe home most of them had ever known. And while Peyton tried to be patient and understanding, she was about ready to strangle the lot of them. After all, she was doing them a favor-literally risking her life, slowing herself down in order to protect them-and there was absolutely no grat.i.tude. They just whined and complained and demanded she allow them to take useless items. She was at her wits' end when Chase finally came back from readying the horses.

”Chase!” whined Darla. ”She won't let me take my pony.”

”You're getting a real pony, Darla,” Chase answered, ruffling the girl's head. ”And if you'll be quiet for two seconds, I'll even let you name him.”

”Chase!” cried Starr. ”I can't fit my makeup in my bag.”

”I'll carry it in mine,” he replied, gesturing for her to throw the bag in question in his direction. ”After all, I'm strong like bull.” He gave her an exaggerated flex of his muscles, causing her to break out into giggles.

One by one, he had answers for everyone. Peyton marveled at how he handled them all. It was almost effortless: sometimes teasing, sometimes flattering, sometimes authoritative. And the kids listened. In the time it had taken her to get them to even acknowledge her presence, Chase had them dressed, packed, and on the horses, ready to go. He was like the world's number one Scout leader. It wasn't something she would have expected from him, and she had to admire it.

”Hey, Peyton, I got you something,” Chase said, pulling her aside. She raised her eyebrows, wondering what it could be. He reached into a bag and pulled out a black leather jumpsuit. ”I hit a fetish shop down the road,” he said with a bashful smile. ”It may look a bit seedy, but they have the best leather stuff. It'll protect you from getting bitten if you get into a scuffle. Not that you've had much problem yet, but... well, we don't know how many we'll meet out there or what sort of situations we'll be in.”

”Thanks,” she said, grateful. She wouldn't have even thought about that. Again, his street smarts were proving invaluable. ”I'll put it on right now.” She stepped behind a shelf display for modesty's sake, then undressed, sliding on the leather pants. They felt soft and luxurious on her bare legs. She slipped into the top and zipped up before stepping back into view. ”Perfect fit,” she announced, feeling more than a little self-conscious about the way the leather hugged her frame.

Chase whistled. ”d.a.m.n. That's hot.”

She swatted him. ”Yeah, yeah,” she said. But her stomach fluttered. ”I'm roasting actually.”

”That's not what I-”

”Chase! My backpack's too heavy!” cried Drummer.

”Take out the toy trucks and you'll be fine,” Chase shot back. He gave Peyton a rueful smile. ”Sorry. Duty calls.”

She watched him walk off to deal with the kids, feeling a warmth come over her. It was nice to see him in a lighter mood at least. Perhaps the preparations for the trip had taken his mind off his brother's death. Her own quest had certainly forced Peyton to stop thinking about her mother. Her heart panged as she realized it was only yesterday she'd laid the woman who gave her birth to her final rest. But she shook it off. As her dad said, it wasn't the people who cried who survived, it was the people who spit and went on. Her mother had made her choice. And Peyton had made hers. Her group had a pilgrimage to begin. A world to save. There would be time for mourning the dead later. If they survived themselves.

She followed Chase and the kids out of the Walmart. Six horses stood in the parking lot, looking very out of place amongst the abandoned cars and debris. Chase boosted Darla and Red up first, then instructed the two oldest kids-Starr and Torn-to ride with them. (Red protested loudly that he could ride his own horse, but Chase refused to let him have his way.) Two of the triplets doubled up, and Drummer got his own mare. That left Peyton with a white stallion and Chase shared his own mount with little Suns.h.i.+ne.

”We're off,” he proclaimed once everyone was seated and ready to go.

Peyton looked around, nervous. Before, inside the bunker and then in Walmart, nothing had seemed very real. Almost as if she were inside a sim. But now, here they were, heading out into the unknown with no clue as to what they'd encounter along the way. It was petrifying, to say the least, but what choice did they have? What other hope was there, other than this journey? Once again, Peyton felt a pang of relief that she wasn't on her own.

And so the trip began, Chase leading the way, Peyton taking up the rear. Single file they rode down the trash-strewn streets, the clomping of horse hooves filling their ears. No one talked.

According to the databases accessed by her ocular implants and built-in GPS-which, thank G.o.d she had since old-fas.h.i.+oned paper maps were few and far between, just like real books-Peyton had decided the best road to take was old Route 95. The highway ran North-South along the entire eastern seaboard. It'd get them to Daytona, Florida, where they'd pick up Route 4 for the remainder of their trek.

Peyton had hoped the highway would be relatively clear, making for an easy journey. But she'd been deluding herself. Route 95 was much like the Walmart parking lot: a graveyard of rusted-out cars and debris. Broken gla.s.s, downed trees and power lines, unidentified objects strewn here and there-it looked as if a hurricane had swept through. Maybe one had.

After a bit, Chase stopped his horse. ”G.o.d,” he muttered, as Peyton came up beside him. He surveyed the scene, hand over his eyes to s.h.i.+eld them from the sun. ”This is going to be a long trip.”

”I got to go to the bathroom!” whined Darla.

Peyton raked a hand through her hair. She felt a little like Pilgrim, in John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, one of the only books her mother had brought down into the shelter. In that book, a guy named Pilgrim had made his way from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City, undergoing terrible hards.h.i.+ps and traps all along the way. In the end, he'd managed to get to his destination. She hoped she was as lucky.

Of course, Pilgrim didn't have eight grumpy children in tow. And though it had been a h.e.l.l of a journey, there were no zombies after his a.s.s. The guy had had it easy when all was said and done.

Peyton shook her head, remembering what Avery had always said back in the day. Negative people were doomed to fail. If she wanted to survive, she'd have to become Mary flecking Suns.h.i.+ne. She'd have to shut down the side of her that was like her father and be more like Avery.

Though look what happened to Avery. Optimism hadn't gotten her very far.

”This is stupid. I want to go home!” cried Red. Peyton squeezed her reins in frustration. Rose-colored gla.s.ses were easier to imagine than actually use. She should have had her father build a setting into her implants.

”Okay, that's it. Everyone dismount,” Chase commanded. She glanced at him, a little irritated. They'd already wasted too much time. She wanted to get some miles in today, feel like they'd made some progress.