10
Chapter Ten
REESE
There was a timein my life when I would have cried at the sight of this scene sprawled out before me. There was a time when I couldn’t fathom this being a reality. It was like one of the scary movies I used to watch late at night with Mom. We had this thing on Wednesday nights, her nights off, where we would pick out the scariest movie we could find on TV. We’d make a huge bowl of the butteriest popcorn and curl up under our knit blanket on the couch. With the lights turned off, the movies always seemed so real. We hid our faces behind the blanket for half of the movies, but we still loved watching them. It was because what happened in those movies was unimaginable—isn’t that what people desire when getting lost in a book or a movie? They want to escape into another world, sometimes one they’ve never considered the thought of, or would ever want to actually experience in real life. None of the horror movies Mom and I watched can even closely compare to any of this…my current reality. If only I could pull a blanket up over my face and hide from it all. But I can’t. Because this shit is real.
“Search those two for weapons,” Sin says, patting down the guys on the other side of the hall. “Take their masks too.” As Sin says that last part, he freezes and looks up at me. “If people are contaminated through the water, why are they wearing masks?” He’s asking me like I should know.
“I don’t think anyone knows how it is spread. It seems like everyone has their speculations but no evidence to back it up with.” This adds another level of fear, though. The thought of avoiding water was manageable for the time being, but not knowing what to stay away from isn’t manageable at all.
As I peek through the tiny slits of my nearly closed eyes, I pat the man down, finding nothing more than a knife in his side pocket. Blood is coating the plastic protective biohazard suit and the skin on his left arm is gone, exposing muscle and bone. The right side of his face looks the same. “That family tried to eat them?” I somewhat ask, somewhat confirm what I’m looking at.
“Yes. It’s similar to what was going on in Chipley.”
“But you said that was because of the food we were eating,” I remind him.
“That’s correct,” Sin says, standing up and wiping his hands down the length of his sides. “It isn’t the food here, though.”
“How do you know?”
“It would be impossible to ensure seventy percent of the population were eating the same food. Water is a more feasible solution to that, but even still, there’s more to this than we know.”
“Chipley was conditioning us to fight the rest of the population,” I say, realization pulsating through my head.
Sin drops his hands in his back pockets and leans up against the wall. “That’s exactly what my mom is coordinating. They can control us by the food we eat in Chipley.”
I look back down at the men, wanting to look away, but also needing more confirmation that this is real. “It would be a bloodbath.”
“Yeah.”
“Your mom doesn’t care because all residents of Chipley are criminals,” I add in.
“Yeah,” Sin says again. “They’re testing out a new kind of warfare. This is what the world has come to.”
“But if you think about it, if the people in Chipley become strong enough to win this fight, and they stop eating the food that’s altering the chemicals in our brains, society could potentially return to normal.”
“Exactly.” Clearly I’m late to the party of understanding, but it all makes sense now.
“So now what?” I ask, sort of knowing the only option left. I want to hear him say it first.
“We join forces with my mom. We tell them what we saw here and help train the people of Chipley to become better and stronger.”
The question of “how” lingers in the back of my head. They fight each other for food. They kill each other out of hunger. I don’t see how any of them could be trained to do anything.
“Before we worry about the ‘hows’ and ‘what ifs’, we need to get back to Chipley in one piece.” Sin jogs back into the apartment and right back out, slipping a backpack over his shoulders. “Ready?”
Like I have a choice.
We make our way out of the building, peeking out first to make sure there are no patrols waiting for us. The street is clear, though. As we reach the end of the street, Sin looks both ways before pointing in one direction. “It’s that hill.” He reaches for my hand, pulling me in close behind him. The empty road ahead provides a slight relief since there is nowhere for anyone to jump out from. But for that reason, I check behind me every few seconds to make sure no one is coming up from behind.
It only takes a few minutes to reach the corner where the strip of shops begins. “It looks like it must have been a nice town before this,” I say softly.
Sin doesn’t respond; his hand just squeezes mine a little tighter. The warmth of his skin against mine helps me remain calm.
While crossing the narrow street, we stop at the sound of footsteps. “Excuse me,” a gentle voice calls from down the street of the shops.So much for relief. He isn’t in a plastic biohazard suit or a gas mask. He’s wearing navy-blue slacks and a white dress shirt. He’s a middle-aged man with a well-kept, clean appearance, the total opposite of anything I’ve seen here so far. That, in itself, is a trigger to run from this man who’s taking slow steps toward us with his hands in his pockets and a non-threatening, slim smile stretched over his lips. “Do you need help? Are you lost?”
“What the hell is this?” Sin mutters under his breath before answering the man. “No, thanks, we’re good.”
