They drift farther and farther away.
Jamison
“ANDREW!” I YELL. “ANDREW, WAKE UP!” Ishake him as guns continue to fire in the darkness around us. To my right, the dry grass at the edge of the road has created a burning force field to protect us. Daphne calls my name again and I turn to her. She’s pointing behind me.
I spin, expecting to find an alligator sneaking up on me. But she’s pointing at the cars parked beyond the fires.
Daphne yells to Amy, Kelly, and Cara, “Grab as many supplies as you can and get the kids in the truck. Amy, drive them out of here, we’ll follow you. Cara, go grab a car.”
Cara nods and follows as Amy and Kelly corral the kids into the truck. Then Daphne turns back to us.
“Rocky Horror, help Jamie get Andrew to the car.”
He nods and takes Andrew’s feet, and I pull him up by his armpits, then we start moving. Behind me, people continue to shout and shoot. I turn to see Hickey’s back is to us. But Daria is looking right at me. She doesn’t warn any of the others, and instead turns away, pointing the rifle into the grass and pulling the trigger. Then she calls out tothe others and points into the darkness, drawing everyone’s attention in that direction.
Daphne opens the back seat, and Rocky Horror and I slide Andrew in. The T-shirt wrapped around his arm is soaked through with blood. Amy starts her truck but keeps the headlights off. I turn to check that no one has noticed our escape yet, but everyone is still preoccupied. The gunshots have gotten farther apart, like a bag of microwave popcorn at the end of its cycle. The alligators must be retreating, scared off by the guns and fire.
“We have to get out of here,” I say. “Before they notice.”
“Wait.” I turn to see Taylor beside me; I didn’t even realize she was there. Without saying another word, she runs off toward the other cars.
“Taylor, we have to go!” I chase after her but stop when I see her slide the bloody knife into the tires of one of the cars. “Oh. Yes! Good job!”
She yanks out the knife, then slashes two more on the same car before moving on to another. While she does that, I run back to our little camp and snatch as many things left behind by the kids as I can. Backpacks, sleeping bags, a stuffed animal. My eyes drift past the dead man with his missing leg, but something catches my eye.
There’s a gun holstered to his waist. I unclip it and take it with me. They took the handgun I left the cabin with, but this one will do fine.
I run back to the car just as Taylor has finished slashing her last tire. Cara pops the trunk for me, and I throw everything in the back. The truck Amy is driving is so far down the road all I see is the red taillights. Taylor, Rocky Horror, and I climb into the back seat,smushing together and trying not to hurt Andrew, who lies across our laps.
Cara does a three-point turn and the wheels screech. When I have a second to glance out the window, I see Hickey and the others have finally noticed our escape. They run after us.
“Hit it, Cara!” I yell.
“That’s not helpful, Jamie!” she shouts back.
But she does punch it—narrowly missing a collision with one of the cars Taylor slashed—and speeds off into the darkness.
Cara follows Amy for about an hour, taking back roads until we finally get to a highway, where they pull over. The sky is turning light blue with the imminent sunrise. While Cara, Rocky Horror, and Daphne discuss which route to take and how long they should drive, I look after Andrew’s wound.
As I pull the shirt away, I wince. It’s still bleeding, but slowly. Andrew looks pale in the car’s dome light, as though he’s lost a lot of blood. I rinse his arm with my bottle of water, and the entire time I can’t stop thinking about all the bacteria that’s probably in these wounds.
He’s going to need antibiotics, and fast. We don’t have any at all, and when I needed them after I was shot, he stopped in every house he could, searching until he ran out of places to search. But we don’t have time for that.
The Keys are chasing us. Fort Caroline is probably on the way, too. Unless the Keys have been trying to keep our escape quiet, which might make sense. Still, our world is getting smaller and smaller.
Andrew wakes up as I’m wrapping the strategically placed gauzepads around his arm. He winces and groans.
“I know,” I say. “I’m sorry, baby.”
He half opens one eye and mumbles, “Where are we?”
“On a highway. We got away from Hickey and the alligators.”
“Yaaaay. Hickey and the Alligators? That’s a terrible band name.” He sounds so weak and tired. “Is the Kid okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine.” Though I haven’t seen him since Kelly was lifting him into the back of the truck. He could be traumatized for all I know. I wouldn’t blame him. Taylor walks over to the other side of the car, looking through the open door.
“Is he awake?”
