the only military base that Sam had found still operational. How they had survived, Sam didn’t know, but the fact that they had gave him hope. Where one could survive, others could too.
Sam wasn’t completely unprepared. He’d planned for this eventuality, hoping that his goal to free these survivors would be successful. It was a rough plan though and not something that would withstand a great deal of unanticipated problems. If something went wrong, he really didn’t have a backup. Much like his assault on the demon worshippers. But this time, he wouldn’t have Yeth to help him.
Eager to do something other than pace, Sam started to prepare food. It was almost midday. He’d have to wake the others shortly and no doubt they would be hungry.
He swept the ash off the main counter and set up his camping stove. The gas canister was, thankfully, full. Sam had found a ransacked camping store a few days earlier. While mostly cleaned out of useful items, it was well stocked with portable cookers and gas.
The can opener on his Swiss Army knife came in useful as always. Sam enjoyed using it, not having to concern himself with touching the metal. Unlike iron, the steel knife had no harmful effect on him. He selected a few tins from the bags and poured them into a large pot he’d found at a hardware store. It had been filthy, covered in ash but Sam had done his best to clean it. A difficult task without water but he really didn’t think the others would care.
The tins contained a mixture of beans and spaghetti. There was even a tin of meatballs which was a rare treat. The demon worshippers had been well stocked — unsurprisingly, given that they would’ve taken the food of all those they preyed upon.
The delicious smell of hot food wafted throughout the store, almost overpowering the lingering stench of sulfur. One by one, the survivors, roused by the smell of probably the first hot meal they’d had in ages, shuffled over to the counter. Sam handed each one a disposable plastic plate and a spoon and ladled out a generous helping to each one.
Sam watched each one with interest, though careful not to make eye contact. Even in the dim light, his distinctive black irises could possibly give the game away. In order to get these people to safety, he needed them to trust him. If they got one whiff of his true nature, then that trust could disintegrate more quickly than a demon turning to ash.
His earlier assessment had been roughly accurate. There were twelve of them all told, ranging in age from probably sixteen up to mid-twenties. Eight of them were female. One of the men and three women were African- American. Two women were of Asian descent and one of the men looked Hispanic although Sam couldn’t be sure. His experience in these matters was fairly limited. All were thin, emaciated; a pretty sorry looking bunch.
As they collected their food, each found a spot and sat down to eat. None of them made an effort to communicate or interact with the others. Sam couldn’t blame them. Chances were they’d been cooped up the others for days, if not weeks. They were probably heartily sick of the sight of one another. Some of them did thank him for the food, however, their faces struggling to make smiles, long unaccustomed to such expressions.
Olivia was last. Sam thought this was deliberate. She was somewhat stronger looking than the others and allowed them to go before her. She paused and looked at Sam after he’d filled her plate.
“Why?” she asked quietly.
“Why what?” he replied, not meeting her eye.
“Why did you save us?” Her gaze took in the others. “What’s in it for you? What could you possibly want with us?”
“Nothing,” said Sam. “I want nothing.”
The expression on Olivia’s face displayed various emotions: disbelief, scorn, anger. Sam watched carefully from out of the corner of his eye and could see her struggling with this concept.
“Garbage,” she spluttered. “No one does things like that unless they want something. What do you want?”
Sam felt suddenly quite tired. Humanity never ceased to amaze him. He’d just risked his life for this woman and did he get thanks? No. Just suspicion. Though at least that was better than downright hatred which is what he’d probably get if his true nature were revealed.
“Believe what you will, but I want to help you. I’ll get you to safety and then leave you alone. Is that ok with you?” He could hear sarcasm creeping into his voice but he couldn’t help it. This woman was pushing his buttons.
Olivia ran one grubby hand through her cropped hair, displacing the ash that had taken up residence. Some of it fluttered down into her plate of steaming food, not that she seemed to notice or care. It looked like she’d or someone else had hacked at her hair with a knife. Her eyes darted left and right as she tried to assimilate this notion. Finally, she attempted to make eye contact with Sam again. He looked down, seemingly intent on stirring the food.
He could tell she wanted to say something else but clearly thought better of it. Muttering something under her breath, she went and slumped down in a corner, eating hurriedly but keeping a cautious eye on Sam. Sam decided to ignore her. He didn’t care. As soon as he’d delivered them to the Ohio Army National guard base, he’d wash his hands of them. Not for the first time, he was getting sick of being treated like this — and this was before they discovered he was half demon.
The other survivors were eating ravenously, heedless of manners or any other social convention, stuffing the food into their mouths as quickly as possible. The food was gone within minutes, washed down with precious swigs of water from bottles scavenged from the demon worshippers. While they finished up, Sam disconnected up the camping stove and stored it in his pack.
Making sure he had everything, he wiggled his way into his pack, strapping his Katana on over the top. The Wakizashi was settled in at his waist. Thus prepared, he addressed the others.
“Right. It’s just after midday. We’ve got to get going. We’ve got to cover about fifty miles all told. I’m hoping to cover about ten before nightfall.”
One of the men spoke up. “Where are we going? Surely we’re not going to spend the night in the open? We’ll be easy prey for demons.” Some of the others started to mutter too. Sam let them vent for a moment and then held a hand up for silence. Grudgingly, they quieted down.
“I’m taking you to the only functional army base in the state. It’s in Columbus but it’s too far to travel in one or even two or three days. Don’t worry — I took that into account when I rescued you. There’s a couple of what I suppose you’d call ‘safe houses’ along the route. The first of them is where we’re going to spend tonight.”
This seemed to satisfy most of them, though Olivia was still watching him warily. Sam took no notice, directing the others to load up their packs with food. Careful not to touch the iron shells, Sam helped those with weapons ensure they were loaded and functional. Although rarely using such weapons himself, Sam had become a bit of an expert over the last few years. It gave himself something to do during the lonely days and nights.
When everything was prepared, Sam led them out of the store, carefully checking the street first. Not that he was worried about demons. He still strongly suspected that some of the demon worshippers had escaped. If there were any more followers in the town, then Sam would be ready for them.
He took the lead, careful not to set too demanding a pace. Flurries of ash followed in his wake as the others fell in line. Soon, they’d reached the main highway. Heading south west, Sam knew that state highway 71 would take them directly to Columbus.
They trudged on. Sam had to let them rest frequently and monitor how much water they drank. He had underestimated the condition these survivors would be in. The ones with the plague were struggling the most. He had hoped that they would be much fitter to travel than they were. As it was, they would struggle to make ten miles before nightfall. If the demons found them out in the open after dark, they wouldn’t stand a chance. He increased the pace slightly, and was encouraged to see them keeping up. One of the weaker women fell back and Sam had to assist her. By mid-afternoon, Sam reckoned they’d covered maybe half the distance he wanted to. Approximately five miles to go. Olivia, hanging back at the rear of the group for the entire trip, moved up to walk next to Sam. She didn’t speak but Sam could sense her looking at him from time to time, building up the courage to say something.
Eventually, she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Sam nodded but kept his eyes on the ash covered road in front of him. “Thanks.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her watching him. “It’s just that no one has helped me before. Ever since the Rapture, I’ve been by myself. Had to watch out for myself. Anytime anyone tried to do something for me,
