“Yes,” says Jamie. “We’re all from the Keys. We got hit by a hurricane and the colony is struggling with what supplies remain. We decided to leave, and they didn’t like that. The others you saw were sent to bring us back.”
I notice how Jamie isn’t telling them the whole story, and maybe that’s for the best. If they don’t know about Fort Caroline, they can’t use us as leverage, too. For all we know, they could befromFort Caroline. So before they can ask any further questions, I jump in with my own.
“Where are you all from?”
Cal looks to the others and shakes his head. “A little bit from all over. I’m from California, LA area. Kevin here is from Arizona.” He points to a woman with light brown skin and black hair in a long braid. “Sandra is from New Mexico.” The other three people are from Seattle, Nevada, and South Dakota. “We all met in a settlement in Louisiana.”
A settlement they’re no longer with. I want to ask why, but at thesame time, do I need to? People don’t leave settlements after the apocalypse unless theyhaveto.
But Cara’s curiosity is piqued. “What happened with your settlement?”
“Not a hurricane,” says Cal. My eyes move over to Kevin again, and I start to put the pieces together on my own. “Listen, when we saw you, we weren’t really in a place to help since we were a little outnumbered. But I think we are now. We’d like to invite you to travel with us for a while. We can’tguaranteesafety, but we can at least help you a bit. Get some more distance on the people chasing you—if they’re still chasing you, that is.”
Subtle way of asking if we slaughtered them, Cal. And his eyes flit down to my arm, so who can blame him? And maybe it’s not that bad to have them think that. A little bit of fear might protect us.
“Thank you, but no,” Jamie says.
Rocky Horror puts up his hands. “Hold on now.”
“We’ll let you discuss it,” says Cal. “While we turn the RV around, you can all talk it out.”
Then they get back into the RV and we go back to our group.
“We don’t know these people,” Jamie says.
Rocky Horror shrugs. “And? None of us here knew each other until we met at the settlement.”
“That’s different. We don’t know if it’s a trap. When they drive us back to their group, Hickey could be waiting for us.”
I shake my head. “Hickey wouldn’t have followed us for two days.” Rocky Horror points at me, nodding aggressively. “And did you hear how cagey they were about their last settlement?”
It’s Cara’s turn. “No one in their right mind would leave a settlement unless they really needed to. Or unless they finally had a window to do so.” She says the last bit very pointedly, hinting at her own exodus from Fort Caroline when she followed us. “If they’re offering to get us a little farther, I think we should take them up on it.”
“We’re getting closer to Fort Caroline territory,” I say. “If we can blend in with a larger group, it might be good for us.”
Daphne and Kelly vote for riding in the RV, too, and after a few seconds, so does Taylor.
Jamie, clearly feeling like he’s been beaten, finally nods. “Okay.”
Just in time, because Cal hops back out of the RV and approaches us. We thank him for the invitation and he helps us corral the kids into the RV. I sit on the floor next to Jamie and put my hand on his knee, trying to communicate telepathically that we’ll be okay.
And maybe it works, because he nods and puts his arm around me, resting his hand on my waist and pulling me tight against his body. Having him against me brings that familiar safe feeling. But the anxiety is still there, deep down.
Worried about who these people are, where they came from, where they’re going.
And if we can trust them.
Jamison
ONCE WE MEET UP WITH THE RESTof Cal’s group, we get back on the road. They tell us they aren’t sure where they’re heading yet, but that they’ve mainly been looking for supplies both to maintain their group of around forty—over fifty, including us—and, if they do meet a new settlement that’s welcoming, to offer the supplies to convince the settlement to let them join up.
But they plan to be picky about where they’re going to settle. They said one of the rumors they’re chasing is Reagan Airport. We probably shouldn’t say anything because that means they would take us all the way up to DC, when our goal is to get Amy and Henri-Two to Henri in Bethesda, but we don’t want to deceive them. So Andrew and I break it to them that the European Union—if it still exists in any capacity—isn’t coming. Cal and the others don’t seem heartbroken and maybe not even surprised.
For now, like us, they’re just nomads.
After a few hours, the radio on the RV’s dashboard crackles to life and someone calls out to them. It’s a scout they’ve sent ahead to lookfor a place to camp. The scout gives them directions, and within an hour and a half, we come upon a mall.
There are signs scattered on the ground of the mall parking lot—small, laminated with dark red letters that read “Distribution Center FL347.” Some have instructions directing where vehicles should go; others say the distribution center is for authorized government personnel only and “ALL OTHERS WILL BE SHOT ON SITE.” Though I think it was supposed to say “sight.”
